LIBRARY 

Univ  i.diy  of 

California 

Irvine 


THE  AVALANCHE 


BY  MRS.  A  THERTON 


HISTORICAL 
THE  CONQUEROR 
CALIFORNIA:    An  Intimate  History 
WAR  BOOK 
THE  LIVING  PRESENT 

FICTION 
CALIFORNIA 

BEFORE    THE    GRINGO     CAME,    Containing    "Reednov" 
(1806)  and  "The  Doomswoman"   (1840) 

THE  SPLENDID  IDLE  FORTIES  (1800-46) 
A  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  VINE  (The  Sixties) 

AMERICAN    WIVES  AND   ENGLISH   HUSBANDS    (The 
Eighties) 

THE  CALIFORNIANS  (The  Eighties) 

A   WHIRL  ASUNDER  (The  Nineties) 

ANCESTORS  (Present) 

THE   VALIANT  RUNAWAYS:    A   Book   for  Boys   (1840) 

IN  OTHER  PARTS  OF  THE  WORLD 
THE   WHITE  MORNING 

MRS.  BALFAME 

PERCH  OF  THE  DEVIL  (Montana) 

TOWER  OF  IVORY  (Munich) 

JULIA   FRANCE  AND  HER   TIMES    (B.    W.   I.   and  Eng 
land) 

RULERS   OF   KINGS    (Austria,    Hungary    and    the   Adiron- 
docks) 

THE  TRAVELLING  THIRDS  (Spain) 
THE  GORGEOUS  ISLE  (Nevis,  B.   W.  I.) 
SENATOR  NORTH  (Washington) 

PATIENCE   SPARHAWK  AND   HER    TIMES    (Monterey, 
California,  and  New  York) 

THE  ARISTOCRATS  (The  Adirondacks) 

THE    BELL    IN    THE    FOG:     Short    Stories    of    Various 
Climes  and  Phases 


THE 

AVALANCHE 

A  MYSTERY  STORY 


BY 

GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PS 


AY? 


Copyright,  1919,  by 
GERTRUDE  ATHERTON 


All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign 

languages 


TO 

CHARLES  HANSON  TOWNE 


THE  AVALANCHE 


THE  AVALANCHE 

CHAPTER  I 


PRICE  RUYLER  knew  that  many  secrets 
had  been  inhumed  by  the  earthquake  and 
fire  of  San  Francisco  and  wondered  if  his  wife's 
had  been  one  of  them.  After  all,  she  had  been 
born  in  this  city  of  odd  and  whispered  pasts, 
and  there  were  moments  when  his  silent  mother- 
in-law  suggested  a  past  of  her  own. 

That  there  was  a  secret  of  some  sort  he  had 
been  progressively  convinced  for  quite  six 
months.  Moreover,  he  felt  equally  sure  that 
this  impalpable  gray  cloud  had  not  drifted  even 
transiently  between  himself  and  his  wife  dur 
ing  the  first  year  and  a  half  of  their  marriage. 
They  had  been  uncommonly  happy;  they  were 
happy  yet  .  .  .  the  difference  lay  not  in  the 
quality  of  Helene's  devotion,  enhanced  always 


2  THE  AVALANCHE 

by  an  outspoken  admiration  for  himself  and  his 
achievements,  but  in  subtle  changes  of  tempera 
ment  and  spirits. 

She  had  been  a  gay  and  irresponsible  young 
creature  when  he  married  her,  so  much  so  that 
he  had  found  it  expedient  to  put  her  on  an 
allowance  and  ask  her  not  to  run  up  staggering 
bills  in  the  fashionable  shops ;  which  she  visited 
daily,  as  much  for  the  pleasure  of  the  informal 
encounter  with  other  lively  and  irresponsible 
young  luminaries  of  San  Francisco  society  as 
for  the  excitement  of  buying  what  she  did  not 
want. 

He  had  broached  the  subject  with  some  trepi 
dation,  for  they  had  never  had  a  quarrel;  but 
she  had  shown  no  resentment  whatever, 
merely  an  eager  desire  to  please  him.  She 
even  went  directly  down  to  the  Palace  Hotel 
and  reproached  her  august  parent  for  failing 
to  warn  her  that  a  dollar  was  not  capable  of 
infinite  expansion. 

But  no  wonder  she  had  been  extravagant, 
she  told  Ruyler  plaintively.  It  had  been  like 
a  fairy  tale,  this  sudden  release  from  the  rigid 
economies  of  her  girlhood,  when  she  had  rarely 


THE  AVALANCHE  3 

had  a  franc  in  her  pocket,  and  they  had  lived 
in  a  suite  of  the  old  family  villa  on  one  of  the 
hills  of  Rouen,  Madame  Delano  paying  her 
brother  for  their  lodging,  and  dressing  herself 
and  Helene  with  the  aid  of  a  half  paralyzed 
seamstress  with  a  fiery  red  nose.  Ma  foi!  It 
was  the  nightmare  of  her  youth,  tnat  nose  and 
that  croaking  voice.  But  the  woman  had  fin 
gers,  and  a  taste !  And  her  mother  could  have 
concocted  a  smart  evening  frock  out  of  an  old 
window  curtain. 

But  the  petted  little  daughter  was  never 
asked  to  go  out  and  buy  a  spool  of  thread,  much 
less  was  she  consulted  in  the  household  econo 
mies.  All  she  noticed  was  that  her  clothes  were 
smarter  than  Cousin  Marthe's,  who  had  a  real 
dressmaker,  and  was  subject  to  fits  of  jealous 
sulks.  No  wonder  that  when  money  was  poured 
into  her  lap  out  in  this  wonderful  California 
she  had  assumed  that  it  was  made  only  to 
spend. 

But  she  would  learn !  She  would  learn !  She 
would  ask  her  mother  that  very  day  to  initiate 
her  into  the  fascinating  secrets  of  personal 
economies,  teach  her  how  to  portion  out  her 


4  THE  AVALANCHE 

quarterly  allowance  between  her  wardrobe, 
club  dues,  charities,  even  her  private  auto 
mobile. 

This  last  heroic  suggestion  was  her  own,  and 
although  her  husband  protested  he  finally 
agreed;  it  was  well  she  should  learn  just  what 
it  cost  to  be  a  woman  of  fashion  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  and  the  allowance  was  very  generous. 
His  old  steward,  Mannings,  ran  the  household, 
although  as  he  went  through  the  form  of  lay 
ing  the  bills  before  his  little  mistress  on  the 
third  of  every  month,  she  knew  that  the  up 
keep  of  the  San  Francisco  house  and  the  Bur- 
lingame  villa  ran  into  a  small  fortune  a  year. 

"It  is  not  that  I  am  threatened  with  financial 
disaster,"  Kuyler  had  said  to  her.  "But  San 
Francisco  has  not  recovered  yet,  and  it  is  im 
possible  to  say  just  when  she  will  recover.  I 
want  to  be  absolutely  sure  of  my  expenditures." 

She  had  promised  vehemently,  and,  as  far  as 
he  knew,  she  had  kept  her  promise.  He  had 
received  no  more  bills,  and  it  was  obvious  that 
her  haughty  chauffeur  was  paid  on  schedule 
time,  until,  seized  with  another  economical 


THE  AVALANCHE  5 

spasm,  she  sold  her  car  and  bought  a  small  elec 
tric  which  she  could  drive  herself. 

Euyler,  little  as  he  liked  his  mother-in-law, 
was  intensely  grateful  to  her  for  the  dexterity 
with  which  she  had  adjusted  Helene's  mind  to 
the  new  condition.  She  even  taught  her  how 
to  keep  books  in  an  elemental  way  and  balanced 
them  herself  on  the  first  of  every  month.  As 
Helene  Ruyler  had  a  mind  as  quick  and  supple 
as  it  was  cultivated  in  les  graces,  she  soon 
ceased  to  feel  the  chafing  of  her  new  harness, 
although  she  did  squander  the  sum  she  had  re 
served  for  three  months  mere  pocket  money 
upon  a  haj;  which  was  sent  to  the  house  by  her 
wily  milliner  on  the  first  day  of  the  second 
quarter.  She  confessed  this  with  tears,  and 
her  husband,  who  thought  her  feminine  passion 
for  hats  adorable,  dried  her  tears  and  took  her 
to  the  opening  night  of  a  new  play.  But  he 
did  not  furnish  the  pathetic  little  gold  mesh 
bag,  and  as  he  made  her  promise  not  to  borrow, 
she  did  not  treat  her  friends  to  tea  or  ices  at 
any  of  the  fashionable  rendezvous  for  a  month. 
Then  her  native  French  thrift  came  to  her  aid 
and  she  sold  a  superfluous  gold  purse,  a  wed- 


6  THE  AVALANCHE 

ding  present,  to  an  envious  friend  at  a  hand 
some  bargain. 

That  was  ancient  history  now.  It  was  twenty 
months  since  Price  had  received  a  bill,  and 
secret  inquiries  during  the  past  two  had  satis 
fied  him  that  his  wife's  name  was  written  in 
the  books  of  no  shop  in  San  Francisco  that  she 
would  condescend  to  visit.  Therefore,  this  mad 
dening  but  intangible  barrier  had  nothing  to 
do  with  a  change  of  habit  that  had  not  caused 
an  hour  of  tears  and  sulks.  Helene  had  a  quick 
temper  but  a  gay  and  sweet  disposition,  nor 
mally  high  spirits,  little  apparent  selfishness, 
and  a  naive  adoration  of  masculine  superiority 
and  strength;  altogether,  with  her  high  bred 
beauty  and  her  dignity  in  public,  an  enchant 
ing  creature  and  an  ideal  wife  for  a  busy  man 
of  inherited  social  position  and  no  small  de 
gree  of  pride. 

But  all  this  lovely  equipment  was  blurred, 
almost  obscured  at  times,  by  the  shadow  that 
he  was  beginning  to  liken  to  the  San  Francisco 
fogs  that  drifted  through  the  Golden  Gate  and 
settled  down  into  the  deep  hollows  of  the  Marin 
hills;  moving  gently  but  restlessly  even  there, 


THE  AVALANCHE  7 

like  ghostly  floating  tides.  He  could  see  them 
from  his  library  window,  where  he  often  fin 
ished  his  afternoon's  work  with  his  secretaries. 
But  the  fog  drifted  back  to  the  Pacific,  and 
the  shadow  that  encompassed  his  wife  did  not, 
or  rarely.  It  chilled  their  ardors,  even  their 
serene  domesticity.  She  was  often  as  gay  and 
impulsive  as  ever,  but  with  abrupt  reserves, 
an  implication  not  only  of  a  new  maturity  of 
spirit,  but  of  watchfulness,  even  fear.  She  had 
once  gone  so  far  as  to  give  voice  passionately 
to  the  dogma  that  no  two  mortals  had  the  right 
to  be  as  happy  as  they  were;  then  laughed 
apologetically  and  " guessed"  that  the  old  Puri 
tan  spirit  of  her  father's  people  was  coming  to 
life  in  her  Gallic  little  soul ;  then,  with  another 
change  of  mood,  added  defiantly  that  it  was 
time  America  were  rid  of  its  baneful  inherit 
ance,  and  that  she  would  be  happy  to-day  if  the 
skies  fell  to-morrow.  She  had  flung  herself 
into  her  husband's  arms,  and  even  while  he 
embraced  her  the  eyes  of  his  spirit  searched  for 
the  girl  wife  who  had  fled  and  left  this  more 
subtly  fascinating  but  incomprehensible  crea 
ture  in  her  place. 


8  THE  AVALANCHE 


The  morning  was  Sunday  and  he  sat  in  the 
large  window  of  his  library  that  overlooked  the 
Bay  of  San  Francisco.  The  house,  which  stood 
on  one  of  the  highest  hills,  he  had  bought  and 
remodeled  for  his  bride.  The  books  that  lined 
these  walls  had  belonged  to  his  Ruyler  grand 
father,  bought  in  a  day  when  business  men  had 
time  to  read  and  it  was  the  fashion  for  a  gen 
tleman  to  cultivate  the  intellectual  tracts  of 
his  brain.  The  portraits  that  hung  above, 
against  the  dark  paneling,  were  the  work  of 
his  mother's  father,  one  of  the  celebrated  por 
trait  painters  of  his  time,  and  were  replicas  of 
the  eminent  and  mighty  he  had  painted.  Ma 
harajas,  kings,  emperors,  famous  diplomats, 
men  of  letters,  artists  of  his  own  small  class, 
statesmen  and  several  of  the  famous  beauties 
of  their  brief  day;  these  had  been  the  favorite 
grandson's  inheritance  from  Masewell  Price, 
and  they  made  an  impressive  frieze,  unique  in 
the  splendid  homes  of  the  city  of  Ruyler 's  adop 
tion. 

He  had  brought  them  from  New  York  when 


THE  AVALANCHE  9 

he  had  decided  to  live  in  California,  and  hung 
them  in  his  bachelor  quarters.  He  had  soon 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  must  remain  in  San 
Francisco  for  at  least  ten  years  if  he  would 
maintain  the  business  he  had  rescued  from  the 
disaster  of  1906  at  the  level  where  he  had,  by 
the  severest  application  of  his  life,  placed  it  by 
the  end  of  1908.  Meanwhile  he  had  grown  to 
like  San  Francisco  better  than  ho  would  have 
believed  possible  when  he  arrived  in  the 
wrecked  city,  still  smoking,  and  haunted  with 
the  subtle  odors  of  fires  that  had  consumed 
more  than  products  of  the  vegetable  kingdom. 

The  vast  ruin  with  its  tottering  arches  and 
broken  columns,  its  lonely  walls  looking  as  if 
bitten  by  prehistoric  monsters  that  must  haunt 
this  ancient  coast,  the  soft  pastel  colors  the 
great  fire  had  given  as  sole  compensation  for 
all  it  had  taken,  the  grotesque  twisted  masses 
of  steel  and  the  aged  gray  hills  that  had  looked 
down  on  so  many  fires,  had  appealed  powerfully 
to  his  imagination,  and  mad£  him  feel,  when 
wandering  alone  at  night,  as  if  hia  brain  cells 
were  haunted  by  old  memories  of  Antioch  when 
Nature  had  annihilated  in  an  instant  what  man 


10  THE  AVALANCHE 

had  lavished  upon  her  for  centuries.  Nowhere, 
not  even  in  what  was  left  of  ancient  Rome,  had 
he  ever  received  such  an  impression  of  the  age 
of  the  world  and  of  the  nothingness  of  man  as 
among  the  ruins  of  this  ridiculously  modern 
city  of  San  Francisco.  It  fascinated  him,  but 
he  told  himself  then  that  he  should  leave  it 
without  a  pang.  He  was  a  New  Yorker  of  the 
seventh  generation  of  his  house,  and  the  rest  of 
the  United  States  of  America  was  merely  in 
cidental. 

The  business,  a  branch  of  the  great  New  York 
firm  founded  in  1840  by  an  ancestor  grown 
weary  of  watching  the  broad  acres  of  Euyler 
Manor  automatically  transmute  themselves  into 
the  yearly  rent-roll,  and  reverting  to  the  energy 
and  merchant  instincts  of  his  Dutch  ancestors, 
had  been  conducted  skillfully  for  the  thirty 
years  preceding  the  disaster  by  Price's  uncle, 
Dryden  Ruyler.  But  the  earthquake  and  fire  in 
which  so  many  uninsured  millions  had  vanished, 
had  also  wrecked  men  past  the  rebounding  age, 
and  Dryden  Ruyler  was  one  of  them.  He  might 
have  borne  the  destruction  of  the  old  business 
building  down  on  Front  Street,  or  even  the  tern- 


THE  AVALANCHE  11 

porary  stagnation  of  trade,  but  when  the  Pacific 
Union  Club  disappeared  in  the  raging  furnace, 
and,  like  many  of  his  old  cronies  who  had  no 
home  either  in  the  country  or  out  in  the  West 
ern  Addition,  he  was  driven  over  to  Oakland 
for  lodgings,  this  ghastly  climax  of  horrors — 
he  escaped  in  a  milk  wagon  after  sleeping  for 
two  nights  without  shelter  on  the  bare  hills 
behind  San  Francisco,  while  the  fire  roared  its 
defiance  to  the  futile  detonations  of  dynamite, 
and  his  sciatica  was  as  fiery  as  the  atmosphere 
— had  broken  the  old  man's  spirit,  and  he  had 
announced  his  determination  to  return  to  Ruy- 
ler-on-Hudson  and  die  as  a  gentleman  should. 
There  was  no  question  of  Price's  father,  Mor 
gan  Euyler,  leaving  New  York,  even  if  he  had 
contemplated  the  sacrifice  for  a  moment;  that 
his  second  son  and  general  manager  of  the  sev 
eral  branches  of  the  great  business  of  Ruyler 
and  Sons — as  integral  a  part  of  the  ancient  his 
tory  of  San  Francisco  as  of  the  comparatively 
modern  history  of  New  York — should  go,  was 
so  much  a  matter  of  course  that  Price  had  taken 
the  first  Overland  train  that  left  New  York 


12  THE  AVALANCHE 

after  the  receipt  of  his  uncle's  despairing  tele 
gram. 

In  spite  of  the  fortune  behind  him  and  his 
own  expert  training,  the  struggle  to  rebuild  the 
old  business  to  its  former  standard  had  been 
unintermittent.  The  terrific  shock  to  the  city's 
energies  was  followed  by  a  general  depression, 
and  the  insane  spending  of  a  certain  class  of 
San  Franciscans  when  their  insurance  money 
was  paid,  was  like  a  brief  last  crackling  in  a 
cold  stove,  and,  moreover,  was  of  no  help  to  the 
wholesale  houses. 

But  Price  Ruyler,  like  so  many  of  his  new 
associates  in  like  case,  had  emerged  triumph 
ant;  and  with  the  unqualified  approval  and  re 
spect  of  the  substantial  citizens  of  San  Fran 
cisco. 

It  was  this  position  he  had  won  in  a  com 
munity  where  he  had  experienced  the  unique 
sensation  of  being  a  pioneer  in  at  the  rebirth 
of  a  great  city,  as  well  as  the  outdoor  sports 
that  kept  him  fit,  that  had  endeared  California 
to  Ruyler,  and  in  time  caused  him  whim 
sically  to  visualize  New  York  as  a  sternly  ac 
cusing  instead  of  a  beckoning  finger.  Long  be- 


THE  AVALANCHE  13 

fore  he  found  time  to  play  polo  at  Burlingame 
lie  had  conceived  a  deep  respect  for  a  climate 
where  a  man  might  ride  horseback,  shoot,  drive 
a  racing  car,  or  tramp,  for  at  least  eight  months 
of  the  year  with  no  menace  of  sudden  downpour, 
and  hardly  a  change  in  the  weight  of  his  clothes. 

To-day  the  rain  was  dashing  against  his  win 
dows  and  the  wind  howled  about  the  exposed 
angles  of  his  house  with  that  personal  fury  of 
assault  with  which  storms  brewed  out  in  the 
vast  wastes  of  the  Pacific  deride  the  enthu 
siastic  baptism  of  a  too  confident  explorer.  All 
he  could  see  of  the  bay  was  a  mad  race  of  white 
caps,  and  dark  blurs  which  only  memory  as 
sured  him  were  rocky  storm-beaten  islands; 
mountain  tops,  so  geological  tradition  ran, 
whose  roots  were  in  an  unquiet  valley  long  since 
dropped  from  mortal  gazo. 

The  waves  were  leaping  high  against  the  old 
forts  at  the  entrance  to  the  Golden  Gate,  and 
occasionally  he  saw  a  small  craft  drift  peril 
ously  near  to  the  rocks.  But  he  loved  the  wild 
weather  of  San  Francisco,  for  he  was  by  na 
ture  an  imaginative  man  and  he  liked  to  think 
that  he  would  have  followed  the  career  of  let- 


14  THE  AVALANCHE 

ters  had  not  the  traditions  of  the  great  com 
mercial  house  of  Ruyler  and  Sons,  forced  him  to 
carry  on  the  burden. 

The  men  of  his  family  had  never  been  idlers 
since  the  recrudescence  of  ancestral  energy  in 
the  person  of  Morgan  Buyler  I ;  it  was  no  part 
of  their  profound  sense  of  aristocracy  to  re 
tire  on  inherited  or  invested  wealth;  they  be 
lieved  that  your  fine  American  of  the  old  stock 
should  die  in  harness;  and  if  the  harness  had 
been  fashioned  and  elaborated  by  ancestors 
whose  portraits  hung  in  the  Chamber  of  Com 
merce,  all  the  more  reason  to  keep  it  spic  and 
up  to  date  instead  of  letting  it  lapse  into  those 
historic  vaults  where  so  many  once  honored 
names  lay  rotting.  They  were  a  hard,  tight- 
fisted  lot,  the  Buylers,  and  Price  in  one  secluded 
but  cherished  wing  of  his  mind  was  unlike  them 
only  because  his  mother  was  the  daughter  of 
Masefield  Price  and  would  have  been  an  artist 
herself  if  her  scandalized  husband  would  have 
consented.  Morgan  Ruyler  IV  had  overlooked 
his  father-in-law's  divagation  from  the  ortho 
dox  standards  of  his  own  family  because  he  had 
been  a  spectacular  financial  success;  bringing 


THE  AVALANCHE  15 

home  ropes  of  enormous  pearls  from  India  in 
addition  to  the  fantastic  sums  paid  him  by  en 
raptured  native  princes.  But  while  Morgan 
Euyler  believed  that  rich  men  should  work  and 
make  their  sons  work,  if  only  because  an  idle 
class  was  both  out  of  place  in  a  republic  and 
conducive  to  unrest  in  the  masses,  it  was  quite 
otherwise  with  women.  They  were  for  men  to 
shelter,  and  it  was  their  sole  duty  to  be  useful 
in  the  home,  and,  wherever  possible,  ornamen 
tal  in  public.  Nor  had  he  the  least  faith  in  fe 
male  talent. 

Marian  Ruyler  had  yielded  the  point  and  de 
parted  hopefully  for  a  broader  sphere  when 
her  second  and  favorite  son  was  eight.  Morgan 
Euyler  married  again  as  soon  as  convention 
would  permit,  this  time  carefully  selecting  a 
wife  of  the  soundest  New  York  predispositions 
and  with  a  personal  admiration  of  Queen  Vic 
toria;  and  he  had  watched  young  Price  like  an 
affectionate  but  inexorable  parent  hawk  until 
the  young  man  followed  his  brother — a  quintes 
sential  Euyler — into  the  now  historic  firm 
However,  he  suffered  little  from  anxiety.  Price, 
too,  was  conservative,  intensely  proud  of  the 


16  THE  AVALANCHE 

family  traditions,  an  almost  impassioned  work 
er,  and  unselfish  as  men  go.  Two  sons  in  every 
generation  must  enter  the  firm.  It  was  not  in 
the  Ruyler  blood  to  take  long  chances. 

m 

Life  out  here  in  California  had  been  too  hur 
ried  for  more  than  fleeting  moments  of  self- 
study,  but  on  this  idle  Sunday  morning  Price 
Ruyler 's  perturbed  mind  wandered  to  that  in 
ner  self  of  his  to  which  he  once  had  longed  to 
give  a  freer  expression.  It  was  odd  that  the 
conservative  training,  the  rigid  traditions  of 
his  family,  conventional,  old-fashioned,  Puri 
tanical,  as  became  the  best  stock  of  New  York, 
a  stock  that  in  the  Ruyler  family  had  seemed  to 
carry  its  own  antidote  for  the  poisons  ever  seek 
ing  entrance  to  the  spiritual  conduits  of  the 
rich,  had  left  any  place  for  that  sentimental 
romantic  tide  in  his  nature  which  had  swept 
him  into  marriage  with  a  girl  outside  of  his  own 
class;  a  girl  of  whose  family  he  had  known 
practically  nothing  until  his  outraged  father 
had  cabled  to  a  correspondent  in  Paris  to  make 
investigation  of  the  Perrin  family  of  Rouen, 


THE  AVALANCHE  17 

to  which  the  girl's  mother  claimed  to  belong. 

The  inquiries  were  satisf actory ;  they  were 
quite  respectable,  bourgeois,  silk  merchants  in  a 
small  way — although  at  least  two  strata  be 
low  that  haute  bourgeoisie  which  now  regarded 
itself  as  the  real  upper  class  of  the  Republique 
Frangaise.  A  true  Ruyler,  however,  would 
have  fled  at  the  first  danger  signal,  never  have 
reached  the  point  where  inquiries  were  in  order. 

California  was  replete  with  charming,  beau 
tiful,  and  superlatively  healthy  girls;  the  cli 
mate  produced  them  as  it  did  its  superabun 
dance  of  fruit,  flowers,  and  vegetables.  But 
they  had  left  Price  Euyler  untroubled.  He  had 
been  far  more  interested  watching  San  Fran 
cisco  rise  from  its  ruins,  transformed  almost 
overnight  from  a  picturesque  but  ramshackle 
city,  a  patchwork  of  different  eras,  into  a  staid 
metropolis  of  concrete  and  steel,  defiant  alike 
of  earthquake  and  fire.  He  had  liked  the  new 
experience  of  being  a  pioneer,  which  so  subtly 
expanded  his  starved  ego  that  he  had,  by  un 
conscious  degrees,  made  up  his  mind  to  remain 
out  here  as  the  permanent  head  of  the  San 
Francisco  House ;  and  in  time,  no  doubt,  marry 


18  THE  AVALANCHE 

one  of  these  fine,  hardy,  frank,  out-of-door, 
wholly  unsubtle  California  girls.  Moreover,  he 
had  found  in  San  Francisco  several  New  York 
ers  as  well  as  Englishmen  of  his  own  class — 
notably  John  Gwynne,  who  had  thrown  over  one 
of  the  greatest  of  English  peerages  to  follow 
his  personal  tastes  in  a  legislative  career — all 
of  whom  had  settled  down  into  that  free  and 
independent  life  from  motives  not  dissimilar 
from  his  own. 

But  he  had  ceased  to  he  an  untroubled  spirit 
from  the  moment  he  met  Helene  Delano.  He 
had  gone  down  to  Monterey  for  polo,  and  he 
had  forgotten  the  dinner  to  which  he  had 
brought  a  keen  appetite,  and  stared  at  her  as 
she  entered  the  immense  dining  room  with  her 
mother. 

It  was  not  her  beauty,  although  that  was  con 
siderable,  that  had  summarily  transposed  his 
gallant  if  cool  admiration  for  all  charming  well 
bred  women  into  a  submerging  recognition  of 
woman  in  particular;  it  was  her  unlikeness  to 
any  of  the  girls  he  had  been  riding,  dancing, 
playing  golf  and  tennis  with  during  the  past 
year  and  a  half  (for  two  years  after  his  arrival 


THE  AVALANCHE  19 

he  had  seen  nothing  of  society  whatever).  Later 
that  evening  he  denned  this  dissimilarity  from 
the  American  girl  as  the  result  not  only  of  her 
French  blood  but  of  her  European  training, 
her  quiet  secluded  girlhood  in  a  provincial  town 
of  great  beauty,  where  she  had  received  a 
leisurely  education  rare  in  the  United  States, 
seen  or  read  little  of  the  great  world  (she  had 
visited  Paris  only  twice  and  briefly),  her  mind 
charmingly  developed  by  conscientious  tutors. 
But  at  the  moment  he  thought  that  the  com 
pelling  power  lay  in  some  deep  subtlety  of  eye, 
her  little  air  of  lofty  aloofness,  her  classic  small 
features  in  a  small  face,  and  the  top-heavy 
masses  of  blue  black  hair  which  she  carried  with 
a  certain  naive  pride  as  if  it  were  her  only 
vanity;  in  her  general  unlikeness  to  the  gray- 
eyed  fair-haired  American — a  type  to  which 
himself  belonged.  Her  only  point  in  common 
with  this  fashionable  set  patronizing  Del  Monte 
for  the  hour,  was  the  ineffable  style  with  which 
she  wore  her  perfect  little  white  frock;  an 
American  inheritance,  he  assumed  after  he  knew 
her;  for,  as.  he  recalled  provincial  French 
women,  style  was  not  their  strong  point. 


20  THE  AVALANCHE 

When  he  met  her  eyes  some  twenty  minutes 
later,  he  dismissed  the  impression  of  subtlety, 
for  their  black  depths  were  quick  with  an  eager 
wonder  and  curiosity.  Later  they  grew  wist 
ful,  and  he  guessed  that  she  knew  none  of  these 
smart  folk,  down,  like  himself,  for  the  tourna 
ment;  people  who  were  chattering  from  table 
to  table  like  a  large  family.  That  some  of  his 
girl  acquaintances  were  interested  in  the  young 
stranger  he  inferred  from  speculative  and  ap 
praising  eyes  that  were  turned  upon  her  from 
time  to  time. 

Price,  with  some  irony,  wondered  at  their 
curiosity.  The  San  Francisco  girl,  he  had  dis 
covered,  possessed  an  extra  sense  all  her  own. 
There  was  no  lofty  indifference  about  her.  She 
had  the  worth-while  stranger  detected  and  tabu 
lated  and  his  or  her  social  destiny  settled  be 
fore  the  Eastern  train  had  disgorged  its  con 
tents  at  the  Oakland  mole.  And  even  the  im 
mense  florid  mother  of  this  lovely  girl,  with  her 
own  masses  of  snow  white  hair  dressed  in  a 
manner  becoming  her  age,  and  a  severe  gown  of 
black  Chantilly  net,  relieved  by  the  merest  trifle 
of  jet,  looked  the  reverse  of  the  nondescript 


THE  AVALANCHE  21 

tourist.  The  girl  wore  white  embroidered  silk 
muslin  and  a  thin  gold  chain  with  a  small  ruby 
pendant.  She  was  rather  above  the  average 
height,  although  not  as  tall  as  her  mother,  and 
if  she  were  as  thin  as  fashion  commanded,  her 
bones  were  so  small  that  her  neck  and  arms 
looked  almost  plump.  Her  expressive  eyes  were 
as  black  as  her  hair,  and  her  only  large  feature. 
Her  skin  was  of  a  quite  remarkably  pink  white 
ness,  although  there  was  a  pink  color  in  her  lips 
and  cheeks.  The  older  men  stared  at  her  more 
persistently  than  the  younger  ones,  who  liked 
their  own  sort  and  not  girls  who  looked  as  if 
they  might  be  "booky"  and  "spring  things  on  a 
fellow." 

There  was  a  ball  in  the  evening  and  once 
more  mother  and  daughter  sat  apart,  while  the 
flower  of  San  Francisco — an  inclusive  term  for 
the  select  circles  of  Menlo  Park,  Atherton,  Bur- 
lingame,  San  Mateo,  far  San  Eafael  and  Belve 
dere — romped  as  one  great  family.  Newport, 
Euyler  reflected  for  the  twentieth  time,  did  it 
no  better.  To  the  stranger  peering  through  the 
magic  bars  they  were  now  as  insensible  as  be- 


22  THE  AVALANCHE 

fitted  their  code.    These  two  people  knew  no 
body  and  that  was  the  end  of  it. 

IV 

But  Price  noted  that  now  the  girl's  eyes  were 
merely  wistful,  and  once  or  twice  he  saw  them 
fill  with  tears.  As  three  of  the  dowagers  merely 
sniffed  when  he  sought  possible  information,  he 
finally  had  recourse  to  the  manager  of  the  hotel, 
D.  V.  Bummer.  They  were  a  Madame  and 
Mademoiselle  Delano  from  Rouen,  and  had  been 
at  the  hotel  for  a  fortnight,  not  seeming  to  mind 
its  comparative  emptiness,  but  enjoying  the  sea 
bathing  and  the  drives.  The  girl  rode,  and  went 
out  every  morning  with  a  groom. 

"But  didn't  they  bring  any  letters'?"  asked 
Euyler.  ' l  They  are  ladies  and  one  letter  would 
have  done  the  business.  That  poor  girl  is  hav 
ing  the  deuce  of  a  time." 

"D.  V.,"  who  knew  " everybody"  in  Cali 
fornia,  and  all  their  secrets,  shook  his  head. 
"  'Fraid  not.  The  French  maid  told  the  floor 
valet  that  although  the  father  was  American — 
from  New  England  somewheres — and  the  girl 
born  in  California,  accidentally  as  it  were,  she 


THE  AVALANCHE  23 

had  lived  in  France  all  her  life — she's  just 
eighteen — never  crossed  the  ocean  before.  Can 
you  beat  it?  Until  last  month,  and  then  they 
came  from  Hong  Kong — taking  a  trip  round  the 
world  in  good  old  style.  The  madame,  who 
scarcely  opens  her  mouth,  did  condescend  to  tell 
me  that  she  had  admired  California  very  much 
when  she  was  here  before,  and  intended  to 
travel  all  over  the  state.  Perhaps  I  met  her  in 
that  far  off  long  ago,  for  I  was  managing  a 
hotel  in  San  Francisco  about  that  time,  and  her 
face  haunts  me  somehow — although  when  fea 
tures  get  all  swallowed  up  by  fat  like  that  you 
can't  locate  them.  The  girl,  too,  reminds  me 
of  some  one,  but  of  course  she  was  in  arms  when 
she  left  and  as  I  ain't  much  on  cathedrals  I 
never  went  to  Rouen.  Of  course  it's  the  old 
trick,  bringing  a  pretty  girl  to  a  fashionable 
watering  place  to  marry  her  off,  but  these  folks 
are  not  poor.  Not  what  we'd  call  rich,  perhaps, 
but  good  and  solid.  I  don't  fall  for  the  old 
lady;  she's  a  cool  proposition  or  I  miss  my 
guess,  but  the  girl's  all  right.  I've  seen  too 
many  girls  in  this  Mecca  for  adventurous  fe 
males  and  never  made  a  mistake  yet.  I  wish 


24  THE  AVALANCHE 

some  of  our  grand  dames  would  extend  the  glad 
hand.  But  I'm  afraid  they  won't.  Terrible 
exclusive,  this  bunch." 

Ruyler  scowled  and  walked  back  to  the  ball 
room.  The  exclusiveness  of  this  young  society 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  continent  sometimes 
made  him  homesick  and  sometimes  made  him 
sick.  He  saw  little  chance  for  this  poor  girl  to 
enjoy  the  rights  of  her  radiant  youth  if  her 
mother  had  not  taken  the  precaution  to  bring 
letters.  France  was  full  of  Califomians. 
Many  lived  there.  Surely  she  must  have  met 
some  one  she  could  have  made  use  of.  It  was 
tragic  to  watch  a  pathetic  young  thing  staring 
at  two  or  three  hundred  young  men  and  maid 
ens  disporting  themselves  with  the  natural 
hilarity  of  youth,  and  but  few  of  them  too  ill- 
natured  to  welcome  a  young  and  lovely  stranger 
if  properly  introduced. 

He  experienced  a  desperate  impulse  to  go  up 
to  the  mother  and  offer  her  the  hospitality  of 
the  evening,  ask  her  to  regard  him  as  her  host 
But  Madame  Delano  had  a  frozen  eye,  and  no 
doubt  orthodox  French  ideas  on  the  subject  of 


THE  AVALANCHE  25 

young  girls.    A  moment  later  his  eye  fell  on 
Mrs.  Ford  Thornton. 

"Fordy"  was  many  times  a  millionaire,  and 
his  handsome  intelligent  wife  lived  the  life  of 
her  class.  But  she  was  far  less  conservative 
than  any  woman  Price  had  met  in  San  Fran 
cisco.  Although  she  was  no  longer  young  he 
had  more  than  once  detected  symptoms  of  a 
wild  and  insurgent  spirit,  and  an  impatient  con 
tempt  for  the  routine  she  was  compelled  to  fol 
low  or  go  into  retirement.  She  was  always 
leaving  abruptly  for  Europe,  and  every  once  in 
a  while  she  did  something  quite  uncanonical; 
enjoying  wickedly  the  consternation  she  caused 
among  the  serenely  regulated,  and  betraying  to 
the  keen  eyes  of  the  New  Yorker  an  ironic  ap 
preciation  of  the  immense  wealth  which  enabled 
her  to  do  as  she  chose,  answerable  to  no  one. 
Her  husband  was  uxorious  and  she  had  no  chil 
dren.  She  had  seemed  to  Price  more  restless 
than  usual  of  late  and  showing  unmistakable 
signs  of  abrupt  departure.  (He  was  sure  she 
dusted  the  soles  of  her  boots  as  she  locked  the 
door  of  drawing-room  A.)  Perhaps  to-night 
she  might  be  in  a  schismatic  mood. 


26  THE  AVALANCHE 

She  was  standing  apart,  a  tall,  dark,  almost 
fiercely  haughty  woman,  but  dressed  with  a  cer 
tain  arrogant  simplicity,  without  jewels,  her 
hair  in  a  careless  knot  at  the  base  of  her  head. 
There  were  times  when  she  was  impeccably 
groomed,  others  when  she  looked  as  if  an  in 
furiated  maid  had  left  her  helpless.  She  was, 
as  Ruyler  well  knew,  a  kind  and  generous 
woman  (in  certain  of  her  moods),  with  whom 
the  dastardly  cradle  fates  had  experimented, 
hoping  for  high  drama  when  the  whip  of  life 
snapped  once  too  often.  Perhaps  she  had 
found  her  revenge  as  well  as  her  consolation  in 
cheating  them. 

It  was  evident  to  Price  that  she  had  been 
snubbing  somebody,  for  a  group  of  matrons, 
flushed  and  drawn  apart,  were  whispering  re 
sentfully.  Price  Ruyler  stood  in  no  awe  of 
her.  He  could  match  her  arrogance,  and  he 
liked  and  admired  her  more  than  any  of  his 
new  friends.  They  quarreled  furiously  but  she 
had  never  snubbed  him. 

He  walked  over  to  her,  his  cool  gray  eyes  lit 
with  the  pleasure  in  seeing  her  that  she  had 
learned  to  expect.  "Good  evening,  oh,  Queen 


THE  AVALANCHE  27 

of  the  Pacific,"  he  said  lightly.  "You  are  look 
ing  quite  wonderful  as  usual.  Are  you  stand 
ing  alone  almost  in  the  middle  of  the  room  to 
emphasize  the — difference  ? ' ' 

"I  am  in  no  mood  for  compliments,  satiric  or 
otherwise."  She  looked  him  over  with  cool 
penetration.  "I  may  not  massage  or  have  my 
old  cuticle  ripped  off.  If  I  choose  to  look  my  age 
you  must  admit  that  it  gives  me  one  more  claim 
to  originality." 

"You  should  have  let  the  world  know  long 
since  just  how  original  you  are,  instead  of  set 
tling  down  into  the  leadership  of  San  Francisco 
society " 

He  enjoyed  provoking  her.  Her  dark  nar 
row  eyes  opened  and  flashed  as  they  must 
have  done  in  their  unchastened  youth.  "Don't 
dare  call  me  the  leader  of  this — this !" 

"Granted.  But  the  fact  remains  that  your 
word  alone  is  law.  Therefore  I  am  about  to 
ask  you  to  forget  that  I  am  a  bungling  diplo 
mat  and  do  a  kind  act.  For  once  you  would  be 
able  to  be  both  kind  and  original." 

"I  did  not  know  you  went  in  for  charities. 
I  am  sick  of  shelling  out." 


28  THE  AVALANCHE 

"My  only  part  in  charities  is  shelling  out." 

4 'Well,  come  to  the  point.  What  do  you 
want?" 

"I  want  you  to  go  over  to  that  lady — Madame 
Delano,  her  name  is — sitting  beside  that  beau 
tiful  girl,  and  introduce  yourself  and  then  me. 
They  are  strangers  and  I'd  like  to  give  them  a 
good  time." 

1 '  How  disinterested  of  you ! ' '  She  looked  the 
isolated  couple  over.  l '  The  girl  is  all  right,  but 
I  don't  like  the  mother.  She  is  well  dressed — 
oh,  correct  from  tip  to  toe — but  not  quite  the 
lady." 

Euyler's  cool  insolent  gaze  swept  the  dado 
of  amiable  overfed  ladies  who  fanned  them 
selves  against  the  wall. 

"None  of  that!  You  know  that  I  do  not  tol 
erate  the  New  York  attitude.  At  least  we  know 
who  ours  are ;  they  came  into  their  own  res*pec- 
tably,  and  with  no  uncertain  touch.  Of  course 
it  is  stupid  of  them  to  get  fat.  Naturally  it 
makes  them  look  bourgeoise.  But  this  is  a  lazy 
climate.  As  to  that  woman :  there  is  something 
about  her  I  do  not  like.  She  is  aggressively 
not  massaged,  not  made  up.  Only  a  woman  of 


THE  AVALANCHE  29 

assured  position  can  afford  to  be  mid- Victorian: 
It  is  now  quite  the  smart  thing  to  make  up. ' ' 

"No  doubt  her  position  is  assured  in  her  own 
provincial  town.  It  will  be  easy  enough  to  drop 
her  if  she  doesn't  go  down.  You  can't  deny 
that  the  girl  is  all  right — and  a  sweet  pathetic 
figure." 

"If  the  girl  marries  one  of  our  boys — and  no 
doubt  that  is  what  she  was  brought  here  for — 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  get  rid  of  the  mother. 
We've  tried  that  and  failed." 

At  that  moment  Ruyler's  eyes  met  those  of 
the  girl.  They  flashed  an  irresistible  appeal. 
He  drew  a  short  breath.  How  different  she 
looked!  She  radiated  a  subtle  promise  of  per 
fect  companionship.  Price  Ruyler  did  what  all 
men  will  do  until  the  end  of  time.  He  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  had  found  his  woman  and  with 
out  vocal  assistance. 

Mrs.  Thornton,  who  had  been  watching  the 
unusual  mobility  of  his  face,  met  his  eyes  with 
a  satirical  smile  in  her  own,  her  thin  red  curl 
ing  lips  drawn  almost  straight  for  a  moment. 
She  had  played  with  the  fancy,  before  anger 
banished  it,  that  if  she  had  been  twenty  years 


30  THE  AVALANCHE 

younger.  .  .  .  Men  had  fallen  madly  in  love 
with  her  in  her  own  day.  .  .  .  She  detected  the 
symptoms  in  this  man  at  once.  Her  savage 
will  compelled  her  to  accept  accumulating  years 
without  a  concession.  But  she  had  forgotten 
nothing. 

Ruyler  may  have  read  her  thoughts. 

"You  know,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at 
lightness,  although  the  coast  wind  tan,  which 
was  his  only  claim  to  coloring,  had  paled  a  lit 
tle,  "that  girl  reminds  me  so  much  of  you  that 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  marry  her.  I  don't 
care  who  she  is.  If  you  don't  help  me  to  meet 
her  conventionally  I'll  manage  somehow,  but  I 
should  hate  to  practice  any  subterfuges  on  the 
woman  I  intend  to  make  my  wife." 

For  a  moment  he  had  the  sensation  of  being 
pinned  to  the  wall  by  that  narrow  concentrated 
gaze.  Then  Mrs.  Thornton  swung  on  her  heel. 
"I '11  do  it,  "she  said. 

She  walked  across  the  room  with  the  supple 
grace  her  slender  figure  had  never  lost  and  sat 
down  beside  the  older  woman.  In  a  moment  the 
astonished  dowagers  who  had  "suffered  from 
her  fiendish  temper  all  evening,"  saw  her  talk- 


THE  AVALANCHE  31 

ing  with  spontaneous  graciousness  to  both  the 
strangers.  Madame  Delano  was  at  first  more 
distant  and  reserved  than  Mrs.  Thornton  had 
ever  been,  manifestly  betraying  all  the  sus 
picion  and  unsocial  instincts  of  her  class;  but 
she  thawed,  and  the  two  women  chatted,  while 
once  more  the  girl's  eyes  wandered  to  the 
dancers. 

When  Mrs.  Thornton  had  tormented  Ruyler 
for  quite  fifteen  minutes  she  beckoned  to  him 
imperiously.  A  moment  later  he  was  whirling 
the  girl  down  the  ball  room  and  thrilling  at  her 

contact. 

v 

The  wooing  had  been  as  headlong  as  his  fall 
ing  in  love.  Helene  Delano  had  a  deep  sweet 
voice,  which  completed  the  conquest  during  the 
hour  they  spent  in  the  grounds  under  the  shelter 
of  a  great  palm,  until  hunted  down  by  a  horri 
fied  parent. 

Helene  talked  frankly  of  her  life.  Her  mother 
had  been  visiting  relatives  in  a  small  New  Eng 
land  town — Holbrook  Centre,  she  believed  it 
was  called,  but  hard  American  names  did  not 
cling  to  her  memory — she  loved  the  soft  Latin 


32  THE  AVALANCHE 

and  Indian  names  in  California — and  there  she 
had  met  and  married  her  father,  James  Delano. 
They  were  on  their  way  to  Japan  when  business 
detained  him  in  San  Francisco  much  longer 
than  he  had  expected  and  she  was  born.  She 
believed  that  he  had  owned  a  ranch  that  he 
wanted  to  sell.  He  died  on  the  voyage  across 
the  Pacific  and  her  mother  had  returned  to  live 
among  her  own  people  in  Rouen — very  plain 
bourgeois,  but  of  a  respectability,  Oh,  la!  la! 

"But  it  was  a  tiresome  life  for  a  young  girl 
with  American  blood  in  her,  monsieur."  Her 
mother's  income  from  her  husband's  estate  was 
not  large,  but  they  lived  in  a  wing  of  the  old 
house  and  were  very  comfortable.  From  her 
window  there  was  a  lovely  view  of  the  Seine 
winding  off  to  Paris.  "Oh,  monsieur,  how  I 
used  to  long  to  go  to  Paris !  America  was  too 
far.  I  never  even  dreamed  of  it.  But  Paris! 
And  only  two  little  glimpses  of  it — the  last 
when  we  spent  a  fortnight  there  before  sailing, 
to  get  me  some  nice  frocks.  ..." 

She  had  studied  hard — but  hard !  She  knew 
four  languages,  she  told  Ruyler  proudly.  "I 
had  no  dot  then,  you  see.  It  was  possible  I 


THE  AVALANCHE  33 

might  have  to  teach  one  day.  A  governess  in 
England,  Oh,  la!  la!" 

But  six  months  ago  a  good  old  uncle  had  died 
and  left  them  some  money.  She  would  have  a 
little  dot  now,  and  they  could  travel.  Mamaii 
said  she  would  not  have  a  large  enough  dot  to 
make  a  fine  marriage  in  France,  but  that  the 
English  and  American  men  were  more  roman 
tic.  They  went  first  to  the  Orient,  as  there  were 
many  Englishmen  of  good  family  to  be  met 
there.  "But  raaman  is  difficult  to  please,"  she 
added  with  her  enchanting  artlessness,  "as  dif 
ficult  as  I  myself,  monsieur.  I  wish  to  fall  in 
love  like  the  American  girls.  Maman  says  it 
is  not  necessary,  but  I  am  half  American,  so, 
why  not!  There  was  an  English  gentleman 
with  a  nice  title  in  Hong  Kong  and  maman  was 
quite  pleased  with  him  until  she  discovered  that 
he  gambled  or  did  something  equally  horrid  and 
she  bought  our  tickets  for  San  Francisco  right 
away. ' ' 

Yes,  she  was  enjoying  her  travels,  but  she 
was  a  little  lonesome;  in  Rouen  at  least  she  had 
her  cousins.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
was  talking  to  a  young  man  alone;  even  on  tho 


34  THE  AVALANCHE 

steamer  she  was  not  permitted  to  speak  to  any 
of  the  nice  young  men  who  looked  as  if  they 
would  like  her  if  only  maman  would  relent. 

"In  our  ugly  old  rooms  in  Kouen  maman 
cherished  me  like  some  rare  little  flower  in  an 
old  earthen  pot,"  she  added  quaintly.  "Now 
the  pot  has  tinsel  and  tissue  paper  round  it, 
but  until  to-night  I  have  felt  as  if  I  might  just 
as  well  be  an  old  cabbage." 

But  it  had  been  heaven  to  dance  with  a  young 
man  who  was  not  a  cousin ;  and  to  sit  out  alone 
with  him  in  the  moonlight,  Oh,  grace  d  Dieu! 

Traveling  she  had  read  modern  novels  for 
the  first  time.  There  were  many  in  the  ship's 
library,  oh,  but  dozens !  and  she  knew  now  how 
American  and  English  girls  enjoyed  life.  Her 
mother  had  been  ill  nearly  all  the  way  over. 
She  had  given  her  word  not  to  speak  to  any  one, 
but  maman  had  been  ignorant  of  the  library  re 
plete  with  the  novelists  of  the  day,  and  although 
she  was  not  untruthful,  en/in,  she  saw  no  reason 
to  ask  her  too  anxious  parent  for  another  pro 
hibition  and  condemn  herself  to  yawn  at  the 

4 

sea. 
Ruyler  proposed  at  the  end  of  a  week.    She 


THE  AVALANCHE  35 

was  the  only  really  innocent,  unspoiled,  unself- 
conscious  girl  lie  had  ever  met,  almost  as  old- 
fashioned  as  his  great  grandmother  must  have 
been.  Not  that  he  set  forth  her  virtues  to  bol 
ster  his  determination  to  marry  a  girl  of  no 
family  even  in  her  own  country;  he  was  madly 
in  love,  and  life  without  her  was  unthinkable; 
but  he  tabulated  the  thousand  points  to  her 
credit  for  the  benefit  of  his  outraged  father. 

He  did  not  pretend  to  like  Madame  Delano. 
She  was  a  hard,  calculating,  sordid  old  bour- 
geoise,  but  when  he  refused  the  little  dot  she 
would  have  settled  upon  Helene,  he  knew  that 
he  had  won  her  friendship  and  that  she  would 
give  him  no  trouble.  She  was  not  a  mother-in- 
law  to  be  ashamed  of,  for  her  manners  were 
coldly  correct,  her  education  in  youth  had  evi 
dently  been  adequate,  and  in  her  obese  way  she 
was  imposing.  She  gave  him  to  understand 
that  she  had  no  more  desire  to  live  with  her 
son-in-law  than  he  with  her,  and  established 
herself  in  a  small  suite  in  the  Palace  Hotel. 
After  a  "lifetime"  in  a  provincial  town,  econ 
omizing  mercilessly,  she  felt,  she  remarked  in 
one  of  her  rare  expansive  moments,  that  she 


36  THE  AVALANCHE 

had  earned  the  right  to  look  on  at  life  in  a  great 
hotel. 

The  rainy  season  she  spent  in  Southern  Cali 
fornia,  moving  from  one  large  hotel  crowded 
with  Eastern  visitors  to  another.  This  uncom 
mon  self-indulgence  and  her  devotion  to  Helene 
were  the  only  weak  spots  Ruyler  was  able  to 
discover  in  that  cast-iron  character.  She  sel 
dom  attended  the  brilliant  entertainments  of 
her  daughter  and  refused  the  endowed  car  of 
fered  by  her  son-in-law.  Helene  married  to  the 
best  parti  in  San  Francisco  and  quite  happy, 
she  seemed  content  to  settle  down  into  the  role 
of  the  onlooker  at  the  kaleidoscope  of  life.  She 
spent  eight  hours  of  the  day  and  evening  seated 
in  an  arm  chair  in  the  court  of  the  Palace  Hotel, 
and  for  air  rode  out  to  the  end  of  the  California 
Street  car  line,  always  on  the  front  seat  of  the 
dummy.  She  was  dubbed  a  " quaint  old  party" 
by  her  new  acquaintances  and  left  to  her  own 
devices.  If  she  didn't  want  them  they  could 
jolly  well  do  without  her. 


THE  AVALANCHE  37 

VI 

Helene's  social  success  was  immediate  and 
permanent.  Californians  rarely  do  things  by 
halves.  Society  was  no  exception.  She  had 
"walked  off"  with  the  most  desirable  man  in 
town,  but  they  were  good  gamblers.  "When  they 
lost  they  paid.  She  had  married  into  "their 
set."  They  had  accepted  her.  She  was  one 
of  them.  No  secret  order  is  more  loyal  to  its 
initiates. 

During  that  first  year  and  a  half  of  ideal 
happiness  Euyler,  in  what  leisure  he  could 
command,  found  Helene's  rapidly  expanding 
mind  as  companionable  as  he  had  hoped;  and 
the  girlish  dignity  she  never  lost,  for  all  her 
naivete  and  vivacity,  gratified  his  pride  and 
compelled,  upon  their  second  brief  visit  to  New 
York,  even  the  unqualified  approval  of  his  fam- 

fly. 

She  had  inherited  all  the  subtle  adaptability 
of  her  father's  race,  nothing  of  the  cold  and 
rigid  narrowness  of  her  mother's  class.  Price 
had  feared  that  her  lively  mind  might  reveal 
disconcerting  shallows,  but  these  little  voids 


38  THE  AVALANCHE 

were  but  the  divine  hiatuses  of  youth.  He 
sometimes  wondered  just  how  strong  her  char 
acter  was.  There  were  times  when  she  showed 
a  pronounced  inclination  for  the  line  of  least 
resistance  .  .  .  but  her  youth  .  .  .  her  too  shel 
tered  bringing  up  ...  those  drab  cramped 
years  ...  no  wonder.  .  .  . 

He  was  glad  on  the  whole  that  his  was  the 
part  to  mold.  Nevertheless,  he  had  his  in 
consistencies.  Unlike  many  men  of  strong  will 
and  driving  purpose  he  liked  strength  of  char 
acter  and  pronounced  individuality  in  women; 
and  he,  too,  had  had  fleeting  visions  of  what 
life  might  have  been  had  Flora  Thornton  en 
tered  life  twenty  years  later.  He  had  been  quite 
sincere  in  telling  her  that  the  young  stranger 
reminded  him  of  the  most  powerful  personality 
he  had  met  in  California,  and  he  believed  that 
within  a  reasonable  time  Helene  would  be  as 
variously  cultivated,  as  widely,  if  less  erratic 
ally  developed.  But  was  there  any  such  insur 
gent  force  in  her  depths  1  It  was  not  within  the 
possibilities  that  at  any  time  in  her  life  Flora 
Thornton  had  been  pliable. 

A  man  had  little  time  to  study  his  wife  in 


THE  AVALANCHE  39 

California  these  days.  Or  at  any  time1?  He 
sometimes  wondered.  Certainly  happy  mar 
riages  were  rare  and  divorces  many.  Fine 
weather  nearly  all  the  year  round  played  the 
deuce  with  domesticity,  and  his  business  could 
not  be  neglected  for  the  long  vacation  abroad  to 
which  they  both  had  looked  forward  so 
ardently. 

Sometimes,  even  before  this  vague  gray  mist 
had  risen  between  them,  he  had  had  moments 
of  wondering  whether  he  knew  his  wife  at  all. 
How  could  a  man  know  a  woman  who  did  not 
yet  know  herself?  He  sighed  and  wished  he 
had  more  time  to  explore  the  uncharted  seas 
of  a  woman's  soul. 

But  the  cause  of  the  change  in  her  was  some 
thing  far  less  picturesque,  something  concrete 
and  sinister.  He  felt  sure  of  that.  .  .  . 

vn 

Unless — but  that  was  ridiculous!  Impossi 
ble! 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  incredulous,  disgusted 
at  the  mere  thought. 

But  why  not?    She  was  very  young,  and  older" 


40  THE  AVALANCHE 

and  wiser  women  were  afflicted  with  inconsist 
encies,  little  tenacious  desires  and  vanities 
never  quite  to  be  grasped  by  the  elemental  male. 

He  went  over  to  a  bookcase  containing  heavy 
works  of  reference  and  pressed  his  index  finger 
into  the  molding.  It  swung  outward,  reveal 
ing  the  door  of  a  safe.  He  manipulated  the 
combination,  took  from  a  drawer  of  the  interior 
a  box,  opened  it  and  stared  at  a  magnificent 
Burmah  ruby.  It  was  or  had  been  a  royal 
jewel,  presented  to  Masewell  Price  by  one  of 
the  great  princes  of  India  whose  portrait  he 
had  painted.  The  pearls  had  all  been  captured 
long  since  by  Price's  sisters  and  by  Morgan  V. 
for  his  wife ;  but  this  ruby  his  mother  had  given 
him  as  she  lay  dying.  She  had  bidden  him  leave 
it  in  his  father's  safe  until  he  was  out  of  col 
lege,  and  then  keep  it  as  closely  in  his  personal 
possession  as  possible.  It  would  be  turned  over 
to  him  with  the  rest  of  his  private  fortune. 

" Never  let  any  woman  wear  it,"  she  had 
whispered.  "It  brings  luck  to  men  but  not  to 
women.  Nothing  could  have  affected  my  luck 
one  way  or  the  other — I  was  born  to  have  noth 
ing  I  wanted,  but  you,  dear  little  boy.  Keep 


THE  AVALANCHE  41 

it  for  your  luck  and  in  a  safe  place,  but  near 
you." 

He  had  looked  back  upon  this  scene  as  he 
grew  older  as  the  mere  expression  of  a  whim 
of  dissolution,  but  it  had  made  so  deep  an  im 
pression  upon  him  at  the  time  that  insensibly 
the  words  sank  into  his  plastic  mind  creating 
a  superstition  that  refused  to  yield  to  reason. 
The  ruby  was  Helene's  birthstone  and  she  was 
passionately  fond  of  it.  She  had  begged  and 
coaxed  to  wear  this  jewel,  and  upon  one  occa 
sion  had  stamped  her  little  foot  and  sulked 
throughout  the  evening.  He  had  given  her  a 
ruby  bar,  had  the  clasp  of  her  pearl  necklace 
set  with  rubies,  and  last  Christmas  had  pre 
sented  her  with  a  small  but  fine  "pigeon  blood" 
encircled  with  diamonds.  These  had  enrap 
tured  her  for  the  moment,  but  she  had  always 
circled  back  to  the  historic  stone,  over  which 
her  indulgent  husband  was  so  unaccountably 
obstinate. 

Until  lately.  He  recalled  that  for  several 
months  she  had  not  mentioned  it.  Could  she 
have  been  indulging  in  a  prolonged  attack  of  in 
terior  sulks,  which  affected  her  spirits,  dimmed 


42  THE  AVALANCHE 

her  radiant  personality?  He  abominated  the 
idea  but  admitted  the  possibility.  She  would 
not  be  the  first  person  to  be  the  victim  of  a 
secret  but  furious  passion  for  jewels.  He  re 
called  a  novel  of  Hichens;  not  the  matter  but 
the  central  idea.  Authors  of  other  races  had 
used  the  same  motive.  Well,  if  his  wife  had  an 
abnormal  streak  in  her  the  sooner  he  found  out 
the  truth  the  better. 

He  closed  the  door  of  the  safe,  swung  the 
bookcase  into  place,  slipped  the  ruby  with  its 
curious  gold  chain  that  looked  massive  but 
hardly  weighed  an  ounce,  into  his  pocket,  rang 
for  a  servant  and  told  him  to  ask  Mrs.  Euyler 
to  come  down  to  the  library  as  soon  as  she  was 
dressed. 


CHAPTER  H 


RUYLER  sighed  as  he  heard  his  wife  walk 
down  the  hall.  There  had  been  a  time 
when  she  came  running  like  a  child  at  his  sum 
mons,  but  in  these  days  she  walked  with  a 
leisurely  dignity  which  to  his  possibly  morbid 
ear  betrayed  a  certain  crab-like  disposition  in 
her  little  high  heels  to  slip  backward  along  the 
polished  floor. 

She  came  in  smiling,  however,  and  kissed  him 
quickly  and  warmly.  Her  extraordinary  hair 
hung  down  in  two  long  braids,  their  blue  black 
ness  undulating  among  the  soft  folds  of  her 
thin  pink  negligee.  For  the  first  time  Ruyler 
realized  that  pink  was  Helene's  favorite  color; 
she  seldom  wore  anything  else  except  white  or 
black,  and  then  always  relieved  with  pink.  And 
why  not,  with  that  deep  pink  blush  in  her  white 
cheeks,  and  the  velvet  blackness  of  her  eyes? 
People  still  raved  over  Helene  Ruyler 's  "color- 

43 


44  THE  AVALANCHE 

ing,"  and  Price  told  himself  once  more  as  she 
stood  before  him,  her  little  head  dragged  back 
by  the  weight  of  her  plaits,  her  slender  throat 
crossed  by  a  narrow  line  of  black  velvet,  that 
he  had  married  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls 
he  had  ever  seen. 

He  was  seized  with  a  sudden  sharp  pang  of 
jealousy  and  caught  her  in  his  arms  roughly, 
his  gray  eyes  almost  as  black  as  hers. 

"Tell  me,"  he  exclaimed,  and  the  new  fear 
almost  choked  him,  "does  any  other  man  inter 
est  you — the  least  little  bit?" 

She  stared  at  him  and  then  burst  into  the 
most  natural  laugh  he  had  heard  from  her  for 
months.  "That  is  simply  too  funny  to  talk 
about. ' ' 

"But  I  am  able  to  give  you  so  little  of  my 
time.  Working  or  tired  out  at  night — letting 
you  go  out  so  much  alone — but  I  haven't  the 
heart  to  insist  that  you  yawn  over  a  book,  while 
I  am  shut  up  here,  or  too  fagged  to  talk  even 
to  you.  Life  is  becoming  a  tragedy  for  business 
men — if  they've  got  it  in  them  to  care  for  any 
thing  else." 

"Well,  don't  add  to  the  tragedy  by  culti- 


THE  AVALANCHE  45 

vating  jealousy.  I've  told  you  that  I  am  per 
fectly  willing  to  give  up  Society  and  sit  like 
Dora  holding  your  pens — or  filling  your  foun 
tain  pen — no,  you  dictate.  What  chance  has  a 
woman  in  a  business  man's  life?" 

"None,  alas,  except  to  look  beautiful  and  bo 
happy.  Are  you  that? — the  last  I  mean,  of 
course!" 

She  nestled  closer  to  him  and  laughed  again. 
"More  so  than  ever.  To  be  frank  you  have 
completed  my  happiness  by  being  jealous.  I 
have  wondered  sometimes  if  it  were  a  compli 
ment — your  being  so  sure  of  me." 

"That's  my  idea  of  love." 

"Well,  it's  mine,  too.  But  if  you  want  me 
to  stay  home " 

"Oh,  no !  You  are  fond  of  society?  Really,  I 
mean?  Why  shouldn't  you  be? — a  young 
thing " 

"What  else  is  there?  Of  course,  I  should 
enjoy  it  much  more  if  you  were  always  with  me. 
Shall  we  never  have  that  year  in  Europe  to 
gether?" 

"God  knows.  Something  is  wrong  with  the 
world.  It  needs  reorganizing — from  the  top 


46  THE  AVALANCHE 

down.  It  is  inhuman,  the  way  even  rich  men 
have  to  work — to  remain  rich !  But  sit  down. ' ' 

He  led  her  over  to  a  chair  before  the  window. 
The  storm  was  decreasing  in  violence,  the  heavy 
curtain  of  rain  was  no  longer  tossed,  but  falling 
in  straight  intermittent  lines,  and  the  islands 
were  coming  to  life.  Even  the  high  and  heavy 
crest  of  Mount  Tamalpais  was  dimly  visible. 

"It  is  the  last  of  the  storms,  I  fancy.  Spring 
is  overdue,"  said  Price,  who,  however,  was 
covertly  watching  his  wife's  face.  Her  color 
had  faded  a  little,  her  lids  drooped  over  eyes 
that  stared  out  at  the  still  turbulent  waters. 

"I  love  these  San  Francisco  storms,"  she 
said  abruptly.  "I  am  so  glad  we  have  these  few 
wild  months.  But  Mrs.  Thornton  has  worried 
and  so  have  we.  Her  fete  at  San  Mateo  comes 
off  on  the  fourteenth,  the  first  entertainment 
she  has  given  since  her  return,  and  it  would  be 
ghastly  if  it  rained.  It  should  be  a  wonderful 
sight — those  grounds — everybody  in  fancy 
dress  with  little  black  velvet  masks.  Don't  you 
think  you  can  go  ? " 

"The  fourteenth?  I'll  try  to  make  it.  Who 
are  you  to  be?" 


THE  AVALANCHE  47 

"Beatrice  d'Este — in  a  court  gown  of  black 
tissue  instead  of  velvet,  with  just  a  touch  of 
pink — oh,  but  a  wonderful  creation !  I  designed 
it  myself.  We  are  not  bothering  too  much  about 
historical  accuracy. ' ' 

"How  would  you  like  this  for  the  touch  of 
pink?"  He  took  the  immense  ruby  from  his 
pocket  and  tossed  it  into  her  lap. 

For  a  moment  she  stared  at  it  with  expanding 
eyes,  then  gave  a  little  shriek  of  rapture  and 
flung  herself  into  his  arms,  the  child  he  had 
married. 

"Is  it  true?  But  true?  Shall  I  wear  this 
wonderful  thing?  The  women  will  die  of 
jealousy.  I  shall  feel  like  an  empress — but 
more,  more,  I  shall  wear  this  lovely  thing — I,  I, 
Helene  Ruyler,  born  Perrin,  who  never  had  a 
franc  in  her  pocket  in  Rouen!  Price!  Have 
you  changed  your  mind — but  no !  I  cannot  be 
lieve  it." 

That  was  it  then!  He  watched  her  mobile 
face  sharply.  It  expressed  nothing  but  the  ex 
cited  rapture  of  a  very  young  woman  over  a 
magnificent  toy.  There  was  none  of  the  mor 
bid  feverish  passion  he  had  dreadfully  antici- 


48  THE  AVALANCHE 

pated.  His  spirits  felt  lighter,  although  he 
sighed  that  a  bauble,  even  if  it  were  one  of  the 
finest  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  should  have  pro 
jected  its  sinister  shadow  between  them.  It 
had  a  wicked  history.  But  Helene  saw  no 
shadows.  She  held  it  up  to  the  light,  peered 
into  it  as  it  lay  half  concealed  in  the  cup  of  her 
slender  white  hands,  fondled  it  against  her 
cheek,  hung  the  chain  about  her  neck. 

"How  I  have  dreamed  of  it,"  she  murmured. 
"How  did  you  come  to  change  your  mind?" 

"I  thought  it  a  pity  such  a  fine  jewel  should 
live  forever  in  a  safe;  and  it  will  become  you 
above  all  women.  Nature  must  have  had  you 
in  her  eye  when  she  designed  the  ruby.  I  had  a 
sudden  vision  .  .  .  and  made  up  my  mind  that 
you  should  wear  it  the  first  time  I  was  able  to 
take  you  to  a  party.  I  must  keep  the  letter  of 
my  promise." 

"And  I  can  only  wear  it  when  you  are  with 
me?" 

"I  am  afraid  so." 

"I'm  yon,  if  there  is  anything  in  the  mar 
riage  ceremony."  Then  she  kissed  him  im 
pulsively.  "But  I  won't  be  a  little  pig.  And 


THE  AVALANCHE  49 

I  can  tell  everybody  between  now  and  the 
Thornton  fete  that  I  am  going  to  wear  it,  and  I 
can  think  and  dream  of  my  triumph  meanwhile. 
But  why  didn't  you  let  me  know  you  were  down? 
It  is  Sunday,  our  only  day.  I  overslept  shock 
ingly.  I  didn't  get  home  till  two." 

'  *  Two  f  Do  you  dance  until  two  every  night ? ' ' 
"What  else?  They  lead  such  a  purposeless 
life  out  here.  We  sometimes  have  classes — but 
they  don't  last  long.  I  have  almost  forgotten 
that  I  once  had  a  serious  mind.  But  what  would 
you?  It  is  either  society  or  suffrage.  I  won't 
be  as  serious  as  that  yet.  I  mean  to  be  young — 
but  young!  for  five  more  years.  Then  I  shall 
become  a  'leader,'  or  vote  for  the  President,  or 
ride  on  a  float  in  a  suffrage  parade  dressed  as 
the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  with  my  hair  down." 

lie  laughed,  more  and  more  relieved.  "Yes, 
please  remain  young  until  you  are  twenty-five. 
By  that  time  I  hope  the  world  will  have  ad 
justed  itself  and  I  shall  have  the  leisure  to  com 
panion  you.  Meanwhile,  be  a  child.  It  is  very 
refreshing  to  me.  Come.  I  must  lock  this  thing 
up.  I  have  an  interview  here  with  Spaulding 
in  about  ten  minutes." 


50  THE  AVALANCHE 

She  gave  it  up  reluctantly,  kissing  it  much 
as  she  had  kissed  him  during  their  engagement  ; 
warm,  lingering,  but  almost  impersonal  kisses. 
The  ruby  seemed  miraculously  to  have  restored 
her  beaten  youth. 

She  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  as  he  opened 
the  safe  and  placed  the  jewel  in  its  box  and 
drawer. 

11  There  is  one  other  thing  I  wanted  to  ask," 
he  said  as  he  rose.  "Is  your  allowance  suffi 
cient?  It  has  sometimes  occurred  to  me  that 
you  wanted  more — for  some  feminine  extrava 
gance.  ' ' 

The  light  went  out  of  her  face.  He  wondered 
whimsically  if  he  had  locked  it  in  with  the  ruby, 
and  once  more  he  was  conscious  that  something 
intangible  floated  between  them.  But  she  looked 
at  him  squarely  with  her  shadowed  eyes. 

"Oh,  one  could  spend  any  amount,  of  course, 
but  I  really  have  quite  enough." 

"You  shall  have  double  your  present  allow 
ance  when  these  cursed  times  improve.  And  I 
have  always  intended  to  settle  a  couple  of  hun 
dred  thousand  on  you — a  quarter  of  a  million — 
as  soon  as  I  could  realize  without  loss  on  cer- 


THE  AVALANCHE  51 

tain  investments.  But  one  day  I  want  you  to 
be  quite  independent." 

Her  eyes  had  opened  very  wide.  "A  quar 
ter  of  a  million  I  And"  it  would  be  all  my  own  T 
I  could  do  anything  with  it  I  liked?" 

1  'Well — I  think  I  should  put  it  in  trust.  I 
haven't  much  faith  in  the  resistance  of  your  sex 
to  tempting  investments  promising  a  high  rate 
of  interest." 

''I  have  heard  you  say  that  when  rich  men 
die  the  amount  of  worthless  stock  found  in  their 
safe  deposit  boxes  passes  belief." 

' '  Quite  true.  But  that  is  hardly  an  argument 
in  favor  of  trusting  an  even  more  inexperienced 
sex  with  large  sums  of  money." 

She  laughed,  but  less  naturally  than  when  he 
had  been  seized  with  an  unwonted  spasm  of 
jealousy.  "You  will  always  get  the  best  of  me 
in  an  argument,"  she  said  with  her  exquisite 
politeness.  "Really,  I  think  I  love  being  wholly 
dependent  upon  you.  Here  comes  your  de 
tective.  What  a  bore.  But  at  least  we  lunch 
together  if  we  do  have  company.  And  thank 
you,  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  promising 
I  shall  wear  the  rubv  at  last." 


52  THE  AVALANCHE 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  his  for  a  second, 
then  left  the  room,  smiling  over  her  shoulder, 
as  the  locally  celebrated  "Jake"  Spaulding  en 
tered.  Both  Ruyler  and  his  general  manager 
had  thought  it  best  to  have  their  cashier 
watched.  There  were  rumors  of  gambling  and 
other  road  house  diversions,  and  they  proposed 
to  save  their  man  to  the  firm,  if  possible ;  if  not, 
to  discharge  him  before  he  followed  the  usual 
course  and  involved  Ruyler  and  Sons  in  the  loss 
of  thousands  they  could  ill  afford  to  spare. 


CHAPTER  IH 


ON  the  following  day  Ruyler,  who  had 
looked  upon  the  whirlwind  of  passion 
that  had  swept  him  into  a  romantic  and  un 
worldly  marriage,  as  likely  to  remain  the  one 
brief  drama  of  his  prosaic  business  man's  life, 
began  dimly  to  apprehend  that  he  was  hover 
ing  on  the  edge  of  a  sinister  and  complicated 
drama  whose  end  he  could  as  little  foresee  as 
he  could  escape  from  the  hand  of  Fate  that  was 
pushing  him  inexorably  forward.  When  Fate 
suddenly  begins  to  take  a  dramatic  interest  in 
a  man  whose  course  has  run  like  a  yacht  before 
a  strong  breeze,  she  precipitates  him  toward 
one  half  crisis  after  another  in  order  to  con 
fuse  his  mental  powers  and  render  him  wholly 
a  puppet  for  the  final  act.  These  little  Earth 
histrionics  are  arranged  no  doubt  for  the  weary 

gods,  who  hardly  brook  a  mere  mortal  rising 

£3 


54  THE  AVALANCHE 

triumphantly  above  the  malignant  moods  of  the 
master  playwright. 

He  lunched  at  the  Pacific  Union  Club  and 
caught  the  down-town  California  Street  cable 
car  as  it  passed,  finding  his  favorite  seat  on  the 
left  side  of  the  "dummy"  unoccupied.  He  was 
thinking  of  Helene,  a  little  disappointed,  but  on 
the  whole  vastly  relieved,  congratulating  him 
self  that,  no  longer  haunted,  he  could  give  his 
mind  wholly  to  the  important  question  of  the 
merger  he  contemplated  with  a  rival  house  that 
had  limped  along  since  the  disaster,  but  had  at 
last  manifested  its  willingness  to  accept  the 
offer  of  Euyler  and  Sons. 

It  was  a  moment  before  he  realized  that  his 
mother-in-law  occupied  the  front  seat  across  the 
narrow  space,  and  even  before  he  recognized 
that  large  bulk,  he  had  registered  something 
rigid  and  tense  in  its  muscles;  strained  in  its 
attitude.  When  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  face 
he  found  himself  looking  at  the  right  cheek  in 
stead  of  the  left,  and  it  was  pervaded  by  a  sickly 
green  tint  quite  unlike  Madame  Delano's  florid 
color.  She  was  listening  to  a  man  who  sat  just 
behind  her  on  the  long  seat  that  ran  the  length 


THE  AVALANCHE  55 

of  the  dummy.  Although  the  day  was  clear, 
there  was  still  a  sharp  wind  and  no  one  else  sat 
outside. 

Ruyler  knew  the  man  by  sight.  Before  the 
fire  he  had  owned  some  of  the  most  disreputable 
houses  in  the  district  the  car  would  pass  on  its 
way  to  the  terminus.  The  buildings  were  un 
insured,  and  he  had  made  his  living  since  as  a 
detective.  Even  his  political  breed  had  gone 
out  of  power  in  the  new  San  Francisco,  but  he 
was  well  equipped  for  a  certain  type  of  detec 
tive  work.  He  had  a  remarkable  memory  for 
faces  and  could  pierce  any  disguise,  he  was  as 
persistent  as  a  ferret,  and  his  knowledge  of  the 
underworld  of  San  Francisco  was  illimitable. 
But  his  chief  assets  were  that  he  looked  so  lit 
tle  like  a  detective,  and  that,  so  secretive  were 
his  methods,  his  calling  was  practically  un 
known.  He  had  set  up  a  cheap  restaurant  with 
a  gambling  room  behind  at  which  the  police 
winked,  although  pretending  to  raid  him  now 
and  again.  He  was  a  large  soft  man  with  pen 
dulous  cheeks  streaked  with  red,  a  predatory 
nose,  and  a  black  overhanging  mustache.  His 
name  was  'Gene  Bisbee,  and  there  was  a  tradi- 


56  THE  AVALANCHE 

tion  that  in  his  younger  days  he  had  been  hand 
some,  and  irresistible  to  the  women  who  had 
made  his  fortune. 

Buyler  was  absently  wondering  what  his 
haughty  mother-in-law  could  have  to  say  to  such 
a  man  when  to  his  amazement  Bisbee  planted 
his  elbow  in  the  pillow  of  flesh  just  below 
Madame  Delano's  neck,  and  said  easily: 

"Oh,  come  off,  Marie.  I'd  know  you  if  you 
were  twenty  years  older  and  fifty  pounds 
heavier — and  that's  going  some.  Bimmer  and 
two  or  three  others  are  not  so  sure — won't  bet 
on  it — for  twenty  years,  and,  let  me  see — you 
weighed  about  a  hundred  and  thirty-five — per 
fect  figger — in  the  old  days.  Must  weigh  two 
seventy-five  now.  That  makes  one  forty-five 
pounds  extra.  Well,  that  and  time,  and  white 
hair,  would  change  pretty  near  any  woman,  par 
ticularly  one  with  small  features.  You  look  a 
real  old  lady,  and  you  can't  be  mor'n  forty-five. 
How  did  you  manage  the  white  hair?  Bleach?" 

Ruyler  felt  his  heart  turn  over.  The  frozen 
blood  pounded  in  his  brain  and  distended  his 
own  muscles,  his  mouth  unclosed  to  let  his 
breath  escape.  Then  he  became  aware  that  the 


THE  AVALANCHE  57 

woman  had  recovered  herself  and  moved  for 
ward,  displacing  the  familiar  elbow.  She  turned 
imperiously  to  the  motorman. 

"Stop  at  the  corner,"  she  said.  "And  if  this 
man  attempts  to  follow  me  please  send  back  a 
policeman.  He  is  intoxicated." 

The  car  stopped  at  the  corner  of  the  street 
opposite  the  site  of  the  old  Saint  Mary's  Cathe 
dral,  a  street  where  once  had  been  that  row  of 
small  and  evil  cottages  where  French  women, 
painted,  scantily  dressed  in  a  travesty  of  the 
evening  gown,  called  to  the  passer-by  through 
the  slats  of  old-fashioned  green  shutters.  That 
had  been  before  Ruyler's  day,  but  he  knew  the 
history  of  the  neighborhood,  and  this  man's  in 
terest  in  it.  He  was  not  surprised  to  hear  Bis- 
bee  laugh  aloud  as  Madame  Delano,  who 
stepped  off  the  car  with  astonishing  agility, 
waddled  down  the  now  respectable  street.  But 
she  held  her  head  majestically  and  did  not  look 
back. 

Ruyler  squared  his  back  lest  the  man,  glanc 
ing  over,  recognize  him.  That  would  be  more 
than  he  could  bear.  As  the  car  reached  Front 
Street  he  sprang  from  the  dummy  and  walked 


58  THE  AVALANCHE 

rapidly  north  to  Euyler  and  Sons.  He  locked 
himself  in  his  private  office,  dismissing  his 
stenographer  with  the  excuse  that  he  had  im 
portant  business  to  think  out  and  must  not  be 

disturbed. 

n 

But  business  was  forgotten.  He  was  as 
nearly  in  a  state  of  panic  as  was  possible  for 
a  man  of  his  inheritance  and  ordered  life.  He 
belonged  to  that  class  of  New  Yorker  that 
looked  with  cold  disgust  upon  the  women  of 
commerce.  So  far  as  he  knew  he  had  never  ex 
changed  a  word  with  one  of  them,  and  had  often 
listened  with  impatience  to  the  reminiscences 
of  his  San  Francisco  friends,  now  married  and 
at  least  intermittently  decent,  of  the  famous 
ladies  who  once  had  reigned  in  the  gay  night 
life  of  San  Francisco. 

And  his  mother-in-law!  The  mother  of  his 
wife! 

Her  name  was  Marie.  In  that  chaos  of  flesh 
an  interested  eye  might  discover  the  ruins  of 
beauty.  Her  hair,  he  knew,  had  been  black. 
He  recalled  the  terror  expressed  in  every  line 
of  that  mountainous  figure — which  may  well 


THE  AVALANCHE  59 

have  been  perfect  twenty  years  ago.  The  green 
pallor  of  her  cheek!  And  he  had  long  felt, 
rather  than  knew,  that  she  possessed  magnifi 
cent  powers  of  bluff.  Her  dignified  exit  had 
been  no  more  convincing  to  him  than  to  Bisbee. 

He  went  back  over  the  past  and  recalled  all 
he  knew  of  the  woman  whose  daughter  he  had 
married.  She  had  visited  the  United  States 
about  twenty-one  years  ago,  met  and  married 
Delano,  and  remained  in  San  Francisco  two  or 
three  months  on  their  way  to  Japan.  Delano 
had  died  on  the  voyage  across  the  Pacific,  been 
buried  at  sea,  and  his  widow  had  returned  to 
her  family  in  Eouen  and  settled  down  in  her 
brother's  household. 

This  was  practically  all  he  knew,  for  it  was 
all  that  Helene  knew,  and  Madame  Delano  never 
wasted  words.  It  had  not  occurred  to  him  to 
question  her.  Their  status  in  Rouen  was  estab 
lished,  and  if  not  distinguished  it  was  indubi 
tably  respectable  and  not  remotely  suggestive 
of  mystery. 

Price,  convinced  that  Helene 's  father  must 
have  been  a  gentleman,  recalled  that  he  had 
asked  her  one  day  to  tell  him  something  of  the 


60  THE  AVALANCHE 

Delanos,  but  his  wife  had  replied  vaguely  that 
she  believed  her  mother  had  been  too  sad  to 
talk  about  him  for  a  long  while,  and  then  prob 
ably  had  got  out  of  the  habit.  She  knew  noth 
ing  more  than  she  already  had  told  him. 

It  came  back  to  him,  however,  that  several 
times  his  wife's  casual  references  to  the  past, 
and  particularly  regarding  her  parents,  had  not 
dove-tailed,  but  that  he  had  dismissed  the  im 
pression  ;  attributing  it  to  some  lapse  in  his  own 
attention.  He  had  a  bad  habit  of  listening  and 
thinking  out  a  knotty  business  problem  at  the 
same  time.  And  there  is  a  curious  inhibition 
in  loyal  minds  which  forbids  them  to  put  two 
and  two  together  until  suspicion  is  inescapably 
aroused. 

He  had  a  very  well  ordered  mind,  furnished 
with  innumerable  little  pigeon  holes,  which  flew 
open  at  the  proper  vibration  from  his  admirable 
memory.  He  concentrated  this  memory  upon 
a  little  bureau  of  purely  personal  receptacles 
and  before  long  certain  careless  phrases  of  his 
wife  stood  in  a  neat  row. 

She  had  mentioned  upon  one  occasion  that 
she  thought  she  must  have  been  about  five  when 


THE  AVALANCHE  61 

she  arrived  in  Rouen,  and  remembered  her  first 
impression  of  the  Cathedral  as  well  as  the  boats 
on  the  Seine  at  night.  And  Cousin  Pierre  had 
taken  her  up  the  river  one  Sunday  to  the  church 
on  the  height  which  had  been  built  for  a  statue 
of  the  Virgin  that  had  been  excavated  there, 
and  bade  her  kneel  and  pray  at  this  station  for 
what  she  wished  most.  She  had  prayed  for  a 
large  wax  doll  that  said  papa  and  mama,  and 
behold,  it  had  arrived  the  next  day. 

Madame  Delano  had  told  him  unequivocally 
that  she  had  gone  directly  to  Eouen  after 
her  husband's  death  .  .  .  but  again,  although 
Helene  remembered  arriving  in  Rouen  with  her 
mother,  she  must  have  been  left  for  a  time  else 
where,  for  Helene  had  another  memory — of  a 
convent,  where  she  had  tarried  for  what  seemed 
a  very  long  time  to  her  childish  mind.  Could 
she  have  been  sent  to  a  convent  from  the  house 
in  Rouen  when  she  was  so  little  that  her  mem 
ories  of  that  first  sojourn  were  confused?  And 
why?  The  family  had  apparently  been  fond  of 
"la  petite  Americaine,"  and  even  if  her  devoted 
mother  had  been  obliged  to  leave  her  for  several 
years  it  is  doubtful  if  they  would  have  sent  so 


62  THE  AVALANCHE 

young  a  child  to  a  convent.  Rack  his  memory 
as  he  would  he  could  recall  no  allusion  to  such 
a  journey,  to  any  separation  between  mother 
and  child  after  they  were  established  in  Rouen. 

But  he  did  remember  one  of  Madame  De 
lano's  few  references  to  the  past,  which  might 
suggest  that  she  had  left  the  child  somewhere 
while  she  went  home  to  make  peace  with  her 
family  to  get  her  bearings.  Her  brother  had 
not  approved  of  her  marrying  an  American. 
"But,"  she  had  added  graciously,  "you  see  I 
had  no  such  prejudice.  Neither  now  nor  then. 
James  was  the  best  of  husbands." 

"James!"    "Jim." 

He  had  heard  the  name  Jim  as  he  boarded 
the  dummy,  uttered  in  extremely  familiar  ac 
cents  ;  by  Bisbee,  of  course.  Yes,  and  something 
else.  "We  all  felt  bad  when  he  croaked." 

His  feverishly  alert  memory  darted  to  an 
other  pigeon  hole  and  exhumed  another  treas 
ure.  Some  ten  or  twelve  months  ago  he  had 
been  obliged  to  go  to  a  northern  county  on  busi 
ness  that  involved  buying  up  smaller  concerns, 
and  would  keep  him  away  for  a  fortnight  or 
more.  He  had  taken  Helene,  and  as  they  were 


THE  AVALANCHE  63 

motoring  through  one  of  the  old  towns  she  had 
leaned  forward  with  a  little  gasp  exclaiming : 

1  'How  exactly  like!  If  I  didn't  know  that  I 
had  never  been  in  California  before  except 
merely  to  be  born  here  I  could  vow  that  is  where 
I  lived  with  the  dear  nuns." 

He  had  asked  idly:  " Where  was  your  con 
vent  ? ' '  and  she  had  shaken  her  head.  '  *  Maman 
says  I  never  was  in  a  convent,  that  I  dreamed 
it."  She  had  lifted  to  Ruyler  a  puzzled  face. 
"I  remember  she  punished  me  once,  when  I 
was  about  seven  and  persisted  in  talking  about 
the  convent — I  suppose  I  had  forgotten  it  for  a 
time  in  the  new  life,  and  something  brought  it 
back  to  me.  But  it  is  the  most  vivid  memory 
of  my  childhood.  Do  you  think  I  could  have 
been  one  of  those  uncanny  children  that  live  in 
a  dream  world?  I  hope  not.  I  like  to  think  I 
am  quite  normal  and  full  to  the  brim  of  com 
mon  sense."  He  had  laughed  and  told  her  not 
to  worry.  He  had  lived  in  a  dream  world  him 
self  when  he  was  little. 

The  conviction  grew  upon  him  as  he  sat  there 
that  Helene  had  spent  the  first  five  years  of  her 
life  at  the  Ursuline  Convent  in  St.  Peter.  "What 


64  THE  AVALANCHE 

had  her  mother — young  and  beautiful — been 
doing  during  those  years,  the  years  of  a  moth 
er's  most  anxious  devotion  and  pleasurable  in 
terest?  He  searched  his  memory  for  Club  remi 
niscences  of  a  Marie  Delano  of  twenty  years 
earlier,  or  less.  No  such  name  rewarded  his 
mental  explorations,  and  Marie  Delano  was  not 
a  name  likely  to  escape. 

He  exclaimed  aloud  at  his  stupidity.  The 
astute  French  woman  was  hardly  likely  to  re 
turn  to  the  scene  of  her  former  triumphs  with 
an  innocent  young  daughter  and  an  infamous 
name.  Nor,  apparently,  had  she  carried  it  to' 
Rouen  after  she  had  manifestly  foresworn  vice 
for  the  sake  of  her  child,  even  to  the  length  of 
resigning  herself  to  the  dullness  of  a  provincial 
town. 

But  "Jim"?  Her  husband?  Could  Bisbee 
have  referred  to  some  other  Jim  who  had 
"croaked"  recently?  Such  women  have  more 
than  one  Jim  in  their  voluminous  lives. 

Buyler  had  that  order  of  mental  tempera 
ment  to  which  dubiety  is  the  one  unendurable 
condition ;  he  had  none  of  that  cowardice  which 
postpones  an  unpleasant  solution  until  the  in- 


THE  AVALANCHE  65 

evitable  moment.  Whatever  this  hideous  mys 
tery  he  would  solve  it  as  quickly  as  possible 
and  then  put  it  out  of  his  life.  Beyond  question 
poor  Helene  was  the  victim  of  blackmail;  that 
was  the  logical  explanation  of  her  ill-concealed 
anxiety — misery,  no  doubt ! 

He  wished  she  had  had  the  courage  to  come 
directly  to  him,  but  it  was  idle  to  expect  the 
resolution  of  a  woman  of  thirty  in  a  child  of 
twenty.  It  was  apparent  that  she  had  even 
tried  to  shield  her  mother,  for  that  Madame 
Delano  had  been  caught  unaware  to-day  was  in 
disputable. 

"What  incredible  impudence — or  courage? — to 
return  here!  There  were  other  resorts  in  the 
South  and  on  the  Eastern  Coast  where  a  pretty 
girl  might  reap  the  harvest  of  innocent  and 
lovely  youth. 

Once  more  his  mind  abruptly  focused  itself. 

Shortly  after  his  marriage  Madame  Delano 
had  asked  him  casually  if  he  could  inform  her 
as  to  the  reliability  of  a  certain  firm  of  lawyers, 
Lawton,  Cross  and  Co.  She  "thought  of  buy 
ing  a  ranch,"  and  the  firm  had  been  suggested 


66  THE  AVALANCHE 

to  her  by  some  one  or  other  of  these  rich  people. 
She  also  wished  to  make  a  will. 

He  had  replied  as  casually  that  it  was  a  lead 
ing  firm,  and  forgotten  the  incident  promptly. 
He  recalled  now  that  several  times  he  had  seen 
his  mother-in-law  coming  out  of  Jae  Monadnock 
Building,  wrhere  this  firm  had  its  offices.  He 
had  upon  one  occasion  met  her  in  the  lift  and 
she  had  explained  with  unaccustomed  volubility 
that  she  was  still  thinking  of  buying  a  ranch,, 
possibly  in  Napa  County.  She  understood  that 
quite  a  fortune  night  be  made  in  fruit,  and  it 
would  be  a  diverting  interest  for  her  old  age. 
Possibly  she  might  encourage  a  favorite  nephew 
to  come  out  and  help  her  run  it. 

Ruyler,  who  had  been  absorbed  in  his  own 
affairs  and  hated  the  sight  of  any  woman  dur 
ing  business  hours,  had  felt  like  telling  her  that 
if  she  wanted  to  sink  her  money  in  a  ranch,  that 
was  as  good  a  way  to  get  rid  of  it  as  any,  but 
had  merely  nodded  and  left  the  elevator.  He 
was  not  the  man  to  give  any  one  unasked  ad 
vice  and  be  snubbed  for  his  pains. 

If  "Jim"  was  her  husband  and  had 
"croaked"  some  two  years  since,  what  more 


THE  AVALANCHE  67 

natural  than  that  she  had  been  obliged  to  come 
to  California  and  settle  his  estate?  Lawton 
and  Cross  would  keep  her  secret,  as  California 
lawyers,  with  or  without  blackmail,  had  kept 
many  others ;  perhaps  she  was  an  old  friend  of 
Lawton 's.  He  had  been  a  "bird"  in  his  time. 

Undoubtedly  this  was  the  solution.  Other 
wise  she  never  would  have  risked  the  return 
to  San  Francisco,  even  with  her  changed  ap 
pearance. 

m 

It  was  time  to  dismiss  speculation  and  pro 
ceed  to  action.  He  rang  up  detective  headquar 
ters  and  asked  Jake  Spaulding  to  come  to  him 
at  once. 

Spaulding  began:  "But  the  matter  ain't 
ripe  yet,  boss.  Nothin'  doin'  last  night " 

But  Etiyler  cut  him  short.  "Please  come  im 
mediately — no,  not  here.  Meet  me  at  Long's." 

He  left  the  building  and  walked  rapidly  to  a 
well-known  bar  where  estimable  citizens,  even 
when  impervious  to  the  seductions  of  cocktail 
and  highball,  often  met  in  private  soundproof 
rooms  to  discuss  momentous  deals,  or  invoke 
the  aid  of  detectives  whose  appearance  in  home 


68  THE  AVALANCHE 

or  office  might  cause  the  wary  bird  to  fly  away. 

The  detective  did  not  drink,  so  Kuyler  or 
dered  cigars,  and  a  few  moments  later  Spauld- 
ing  strolled  in.  His  physical  movements  always 
belied  his  nervous  keen  face.  He  was  the  an 
tithesis  of  'Gene  Bisbee.  All  honest  men  com 
pelled  to  have  dealings  with  him  liked  and 
trusted  him.  A  rich  man  could  confide  a  dis 
graceful  predicament  to  his  keeping  without 
fear  of  blackmail,  and  a  poor  man,  if  his  cause 
were  interesting,  might  command  his  services 
with  a  nominal  fee.  He  loved  the  work  and 
regarded  himself  as  an  artist,  inasmuch  as  he 
was  exercising  a  highly  cultivated  gift,  not 
merely  pursuing  a  lucrative  profession.  He 
sometimes  longed,  it  is  true,  for  worthier  ob 
jects  upon  which  to  lavish  this  gift,  and  he 
found  them  a  few  years  later  when  the  world 
went  to  war.  He  was  one  of  the  most  valuable 
men  in  the  Federal  Secret  Service  before  the 
end  of  1915. 

''What's  up?''  he  asked,  as  he  took  posses 
sion  of  the  most  comfortable  chair  in  the  little 
room  and  lit  a  cigar.  "You  look  as  if  you 


THE  AVALANCHE  69 

hadn't  slept  for  a  week,  and  you  were  lookin' 
fine  yesterday. " 

"Do  you  mind  if  I  only  half  confide  in  you? 
It's  a  delicate  matter.  I'd  like  to  ask  you  a  few 
questions  and  may  possibly  ask  you  to  find  the 
answer  to  several  others." 

"Fire  away.  Curiosity  is  not  my  vice.  I'll 
only  call  for  a  clean  breast  if  I  find  I  can't  work 
in  the  dark." 

' '  Thanks.  Do — do  you  remember  any  woman 
of  the  town  named — Marie  Delano  ? ' '  He  swal 
lowed  hard  but  brought  it  out.  "Who  may 
have  flourished  here  fifteen  or  twenty  years 
ago?" 

Spaulding  knew  that  Ruyler's  wife  had  been 
named  Delano,  but  he  refrained  from  whistling 
and  fixed  his  sharp  honest  blue  eyes  on  the 
opposite  wall. 

"Nope.  Sounds  fancy  enough,  but  she  was 
no  Queen  of  the  Red  Light  District  in  S.  F." 

"I  was  convinced  she  could  not  have  been 
known  under  that  name.  Do  you  know  of  any 
woman  of  that  sort  who  was  married — pos 
sibly — to  a  man  whose  first  name  was  James — 
Jim — and  who  left  abruptly,  while  she  was  still 


70  THE  AVALANCHE 

young  and  handsome,  just  about  fifteen  years 


"Lord,  that's  a  poser!  Do  you  mean  to  say 
she  married  and  retired — landed  some  simp? 
They  do  once  in  a  while.  Could  tell  you  queer 
things  about  certain  ancestries  in  this  old 
town. ' ' 

"No — I  don't  think  that  was  it.  I  have  rea 
son  to  think  she  had  been  married  for  at  least 
six  years  before  she  left.  Can't  you  think  of 
any  Marie  who  was  married  to  a  Jim — in — in 
that  class  of  life?" 

"I  was  pretty  much  of  a  kid  fifteen  years 
ago,  but  I  can  recall  quite  a  few  Maries  and 
even  more  Jims.  But  the  Jims  were  much  too 
wary  to  marry  the  Maries.  Try  it  again,  part 
ner.  Let  us  approach  from  another  angle. 
What  did  your  Marie  look  like?" 

"She  must  have  been  tall — uncommonly  tall 
— with  black  hair  and  small  features;  black 
eyes  that  must  have  been  large  at  that  time.  I 
: — I — believe  she  had  a  very  fine  figure." 

"What  nationality?" 

"French." 

The  detective  recrossed  his  legs.    "French. 


THE  AVALANCHE  71 

Oh,  Lord!  The  town  was  fairly  overrun  with 
them.  Made  you  think  there  was  nothing  in  all 
this  talk  about  gay  Paree.  All  the  ladybirds 
seemed  to  have  taken  refuge  here.  You  have 
no  idea  of  her  last  name?" 

"It  might  have  been  Perrin." 

"  Never.  Not  after  she  got  here  and  set  up 
in  business.  More  likely  Lestrange  or  Dela- 
court " 

"Was  there  a  Delacourt?" 

"Not  that  I  remember.  I  don't  see  light  any 
where.  Of  course  it  won't  take  me  twenty-four 
hours  to  get  hold  of  the  history  and  appearance 
of  every  queen  who  was  named  Marie  fifteen 
years  ago,  and  your  description  helps  a  lot. 
Records  were  burned,  but  some  of  the  older 
men  on  the  force  are  walking  archives.  For 
the  matter  of  that  you  might  draw  out  some  old 
codger  in  your  club  and  get  as  much  as  I  can 
give  you " 

"Bather  not!  I  think  I'll  have  to  give  you 
my  confidence." 

"Much  the  shortest  and  straightest  route. 
Just  fancy  you're  takin'  a  nasty  dose  of  medi 
cine  for  the  good  of  your  health.  I  guess  this 


72  THE  AVALANCHE 

is  a  case  where  I  can't  work  in  the  dark." 

"Have  you  ever  noticed  an  elderly  woman 
seated  in  the  court  of  the  Palace  Hotel — im 
mensely  stout?" 

"I  should  say  I  had.  One  of  the  sights  of 
S.  F.  Why — of  course — she's  your  mother-in- 
law!" 

1  'Has  there  been  any  talk  about  her?" 

' '  Some  comment  on  her  size.  And  her  child 
like  delight  in  watchin'  the  show." 

"  No  thing  else?  No  one  has  claimed  to  rec 
ognize  her?" 

Spaulding  sat  up  straight,  his  nose  pointing. 
"Recognize  her?  What  d'you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  I  overheard  a  conversation — 
one-sided — to-day  on  the  California  Street 
dummy,  in  which  Bisbee  accused  Madame  De 
lano  practically  of  what  I  have  told  you.  At 
least  that  is  the  way  I  interpreted  it.  He  called 
her  Marie,  alluded  in  an  unmistakable  manner 
to  a  disgraceful  past  in  which  he  had  known 
her  intimately,  and  was  confident  that  he  recog 
nized  her  in  spite  of  her  flesh  and  white  hair. 
I  am  positive  that  she  recognized  him,  although 
she  was  clever  enough  not  to  reply." 


THE  AVALANCHE  73 

"Jimminy!  The  plot  thickens.  That  scoun 
drel  never  forgot  a  face  in  his  life.  I  don't 
train  with  him — not  by  a  long  sight — so  if 
there's  been  any  talk  in  his  bunch,  I  naturally 
wouldn't  have  heard  it.  You  say  her  name  is 
Marie  now?" 

"Yes." 

1  'And  Perrin  is  her  real  name?" 

' '  She  comes  of  a  well-known  family  of  Rouen 
of  that  name.  She  lived  there  with  her  child  for 
at  least  thirteen  years  before  her  return  to 
California.  Of  that  I  am  certain.  Her  daugh 
ter  is  now  twenty.  I  wish  to  know  where  she 
kept  that  child  during  the  first  five  years  of  its 
life.  I  have  reason  to  think  it  was  in  the  Ursu- 
line  Convent  at  St.  Peter." 

"That's  easy  settled.  And  you  think  the  fa 
ther's  first  name  was  Jim?" 

"She  told  me  that  his  name  was  James  De 
lano.  Also  that  he  died  within  the  first  year 
of  their  marriage,  when  the  child  was  two 
months  old,  during  the  voyage  to  Japan.  That 
may  be,  but  I  can  see  no  reason  for  her  return 
ing  here  unless  he  died  more  recently  and  the 


74  THE  AVALANCHE 

settlement  of  Ms  estate  demanded  her  pres 
ence.  ' ' 

"Pretty  good  reasoning,  particularly  if  you 
are  sure  she  stayed  here  until  the  child  was 
five.  Some  of  them  have  pretty  decent  instincts. 
She  may  have  made  up  her  mind  to  give  the 
kid  a  chance,  and  returned  to  her  relations.  Of 
course  we  must  assume  that  they  knew  nothing 
of  her  life." 

"I  am  positive  they  did  not.  But  there  had 
been  some  sort  of  estrangement.  I  have  been 
given  to  understand  that  it  was  because  she 
married  an  American.  Of  course  she  may  not 
have  written  to  them  at  all  for  six  or  seven 
years.  Her  story  is  that  she  was  visiting  other 
relatives  in  a  place  called  Holbrook  Centre, 
Vermont,  and  met  this  man  and  married  him. 
Then  that  he  was  detained  by  business  in  San 
Francisco  for  several  months,  and  the  child 
born  here." 

"Good  commonplace  story.  Just  the  sort 
that  is  never  questioned.  Of  course  if  she  did 
not  correspond  with  her  family  during  all  that 
time  she  could  adopt  any  name  for  her  return 
to  respectability  that  she  chose.  Delano  wasn't 


THE  AVALANCHE  75 

it?  That's  certain.  What  line  do  you  intend 
to  take?  After  I've  delivered  the  facts?" 

"My  object  is  to  have  the  child's  legitimacy 
established,  if  possible,  then  see  that  Madame 
Delano  leaves  California  forever.  I  think  that 
she  could  be  terrified  by  a  threat  of  blackmail. 
I  can't  imagine  the  mere  chance  of  recognition 
worrying  her,  for  I  should  say  she  had  as  much 
courage  as  presence  of  mind.  But  her  passion 
is  money.  If  she  thought  there  was  any  dan 
ger  of  being  forced  to  hand  over  what  she  has 
I  fancy  she  would  get  out  as  quickly  as  pos 
sible.  She  is  an  intelligent  woman  and  I  im 
agine  she  has  taken  a  sardonic  pleasure  in  sit 
ting  out  in  full  view  of  San  Francisco,  and  get 
ting  away  with  it." 

"And  marrying  her  girl  to  the  greatest  catch 
in  California,"  thought  the  detective,  but  he 
said : 

"I  believe  you're  dead  right,  although,  of 
course,  there  may  be  nothing  in  it.  Even  'Gene 
Bisbee  might  be  mistaken,  pryin'  a  gazelle  out 
of  an  elephant  like  that.  Now,  tell  me  all  you 
know. ' ' 

When  Ruyler  had  covered  every  point  Spauld- 


76  THE  AVALANCHE 

ing  nodded.  "It's  possible  this  Jim  was  the 
maquereau  and  she  made  him  marry  her  for  the 
sake  of  the  child.  Doubt  if  the  date  can  be 
proved  except  through  the  lawyers,  and  it  will 
be  hard  to  make  them  talk.  Of  course  if  there 
is  a  Holbrook  Centre  and  she  was  married 
there — but  I  have  my  doubts.  The  point  is  that 
he  evidently  married  her  if  she  is  settlin'  up  his 
estate.  I'll  find  out  what  Jims  have  died  within 
the  last  three  years  or  so.  That's  easy.  The 
direct  route  to  the  one  we  want  is  through  St. 
Peter.  I'll  go  up  to-night." 

"And  you'll  report  to-morrow1?" 
"Yep.    Meet  me  here  at  six  P.M.    Lucky  the 
man  seems  to  have  died  after  the  fire.    I'll  set 
some  one  o*n  the  job  of  searching  death  records 
right  away." 


CHAPTER  IV 


RUTLER  had  half  promised  to  go  to  a  din 
ner   that   night    at    the    house    of    John 
Gwynne,  whose  wife  would  chaperon  his  wife 
afterward  to  the  last  of  the  Assembly  dances. 

Gwynne  was  his  English  friend  who  had 
abandoned  the  ancient  title  inherited  untimely 
when  he  was  making  a  reputation  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  become  an  American  citizen 
in  California,  where  he  had  a  large  ranch  orig 
inally  the  property  of  an  American  grand 
mother.  His  migration  had  been  justified  in  his 
own  eyes  by  his  ready  adaptation  to  the  land 
of  his  choice  and  to  the  opportunities  offered 
in  the  rebuilding  of  San  Francisco  after  the 
earthquake  and  fire,  as  well  as  in  the  renovation 
of  its  politics.  He  had  made  his  ranch  profit 
able,  read  law  as  a  stepping-stone  to  the  politi 
cal  career,  and  had  just  been  elected  to  Con 
gress.  Ruyler  was  one  of  his  few  intimate 

77 


78  THE  AVALANCHE 

friends  and  had  promised  to  go  to  this  fare 
well  dinner  if  possible.  A  place  would  be  kept 
vacant  for  him  until  the  last  minute. 

Gwynne  had  married  Isabel  Otis,*  a  Calif  or- 
nian  of  distinguished  beauty  and  abilities, 
whose  roots  were  deep  in  San  Francisco,  al 
though  she  had  "run  a  ranch"  in  Sonoma 
County.  The  Gwynnes  and  the  Thorntons  un 
til  Ruyler  met  Helene  had  been  the  friends 
whose  society  he  had  sought  most  in  his  rare 
hours  of  leisure,  and  he  had  spent  many  sum 
mer  week-ends  at  their  country  homes.  He  had 
hoped  that  the  intimacy  would  deepen  after  his 
marriage,  but  Helene  during  the  past  year  had 
gone  almost  exclusively  with  the  younger  set, 
the  "dancing  squad";  natural  enough  consid 
ering  her  age,  but  Euyler  would  have  expected 
a  girl  of  so  much  intelligence,  to  say  nothing  of 
her  severe  education,  to  have  tired  long  since 
of  that  artificial  wing  of  society  devoted  solely 
to  froth,  and  gravitated  naturally  toward  the 
best  the  city  afforded.  But  she  had  appeared 
to  like  the  older  women  better  at  first  than 

*  See  "Ancestors." 


THE  AVALANCHE  79 

later,  although  she  accepted  their  invitations 
to  large  dinners  and  dances. 

Euyler  made  up  his  mind  to  attend  this  din 
ner  at  G Wynne's,  and  telephoned  his  acceptance 
before  he  left  Long's.  Business  or  no  business, 
he  should  be  his  wife's  bodyguard  hereafter. 
There  were  blackmailers  in  society  as  out  of  it, 
and  it  was  possible  that  his  ubiquity  would 
frighten  them  off.  Whether  to  demand  his 
wife's  confidence  or  not  he  was  undecided.  Bet 
ter  let  events  determine. 


When  he  arrived  at  home  he  went  directly  to 
Helene's  room,  but  paused  with  his  hand  on  the 
knob  of  the  door.  He  heard  his  mother-in-law's 
voice  and  she  was  the  last  person  he  wished 
to  meet  until  he  was  in  a  position  to  tell  her  to 
leave  the  country.  He  was  turning  away  im 
patiently  when  Madame  Delano  lifted  her  hard 
incisive  tones. 

"And  you  promised  me!"  she  exclaimed  pas 
sionately.  "I  trusted  you.  I  never  be 
lieved " 

Price  retreated  hurriedly  to  his  own  room, 


8o  THE  AVALANCHE 

and  it  was  not  until  he  had  taken  a  cold  shower 
and  was  half  dressed  that  he  permitted  himself 
to  think. 

That  wretch  had  known,  then!  It  was  she 
who  had  been  blackmailing  her  daughter.  And 
the  poor  child  had  been  afraid  to  confide  in  him, 
to  ask  him  for  money.  No  wonder  her  eyes  had 
flashed  at  the  prospect  of  a  fortune  of  her 
own.  .  .  . 

An  even  less  welcome  ray  illuminated  his 
mind  at  this  point.  His  wife  was  not  unversed 
in  the  arts  of  dissimulation  herself.  True,  she 
was  French  and  took  naturally  to  diplomatic 
wiles;  true,  also,  the  instinct  of  self -preserva 
tion  in  even  younger  members  of  a  sex  that 
man  in  his  centuries  of  power  had  made,  super 
ficially,  the  weaker,  was  rarely  inert. 

What  woman  would  wish  her  husband  to  know 
disgraceful  ancestral  secrets  which  were  no 
fault  of  hers  I  A  much  older  woman  would  not 
be  above  entombing  them,  if  the  fates  were 
kind.  But  it  saddened  hirn  to  think  that  his 
wife  should  be  rushed  to  maturity  along  the 
devious  way.  Poor  child,  he  must  win  her  con 
fidence  as  quickly  as  his  limping  wits  would 


THE  AVALANCHE  81 

permit  and  shift  her  burden  to  his  own  shoul 
ders. 

Having  learned  through  the  medium  of  the 
house  telephone  that  his  mother-in-law  had  de 
parted,  he  knocked  at  his  wife's  door.  She 
opened  it  at  once  and  there  was  no  mark  of  agi 
tation  on  her  little  oval  face  under  its  proudly 
carried  crown  of  heavy  braids.  She  was  look 
ing  very  lovely  in  a  severe  black  velvet  gown 
whose  texture  and  depth  cunningly  matched  her 
eyes  and  threw  into  a  relief  as  artful  the  white 
purity  of  her  skin  and  the  delicate  pink  of  lip 
and  cheek. 

She  smiled  at  him  brilliantly.  "It  can't  be 
true  that  you  are  going  with  me?" 

' 'I've  reformed.  I  shall  go  with  you  every 
where  from  this  time  forth.  But  I  thought  I 
heard  your  mother's  voice  when  I  came  in " 

"She  often  comes  in  about  dressing  time  to 
see  me  in  a  new  frock.  How  heavenly  that  you 
will  always  go  with  me."  Her  voice  shook  a 
little  and  she  leaned  over  to  smooth  a  possible 
wrinkle  in  her  girdle. 

"Will  you  come  down  to  the  library?  We 
are  rather  early." 


82  THE  AVALANCHE 

He  went  directly  to  the  safe  and  took  out  the 
ruby  and  clasped  the  chain  about  her  neck.  The 
chain  was  long  and  the  great  jewel  took  a  deeper 
and  more  mysterious  color  from  the  somber 
background  of  her  bodice. 

Helene  gasped.  "Am  I  to  wear  it  to-night? 
That  would  be  too  wonderful.  This  is  the  last 
great  night  in  town." 

"Why  not?  I  shall  be  there  to  mount  guard. 
You  shall  always  wear  it  when  I  am  able  to  go 
out  with  you." 

She  lifted  her  radiant  face,  although  it  re 
mained  subtly  immobile  with  a  new  and  almost 
formal  self-possession.  "I  am  even  more  de 
lighted  than  I  was  yesterday,  for  at  the  fete 
there  will  be  so  much  novelty  to  distract  atten 
tion.  You  always  think  of  the  nicest  possible 
things." 

When  they  were  in  the  taxi  he  put  his  arm 
about  her. 

"I  wonder,"  he  began  gropingly,  "if  you 
would  mind  not  going  out  when  I  cannot  go  with 
you?  I'll  go  as  often  as  I  can  manage.  There 
are  reasons " 


THE  AVALANCHE  83 

He  felt  her  light  body  grow  rigid.  "Rea 
sons?  You  told  me  only  yesterday " 

"I  know.  But  I  have  been  thinking  it  over. 
That  is  rather  a  fast  lot  you  run  with.  I  know, 
of  course,  they  are  F.F.C.'s,  and  all  the  rest 
of  it,  but  if  I  ever  drove  up  to  the  Club  House 
in  Burlingame  in  the  morning  and  saw  you  sit 
ting  on  the  veranda  smoking  and  drinking  gin 
fizzes " 

* '  You  never  will !  I  could  not  swallow  a  gin 
fizz,  or  any  nasty  mixed  drink.  And  although 
I  have  had  my  cigarette  after  meals  ever  since 
I  was  fifteen,  I  never  smoke  in  public." 

"I  confess  I  cannot  see  you  in  the  picture  that 
rose  for  some  perverse  reason  in  my  mind ;  but 
— well,  you  really  are  too  young  to  go  about  so 
much  without  your  husband— 

"I  am  always  chaperoned  to  the  large  af 
fairs.  Mrs.  Gwynne  takes  me  to  the  Fairmont 
to-night." 

I  know.  But  scandal  is  bred  in  the  marrow 
of  San  Francisco.  Its  social  history  is  founded 
upon  it,  and  it  is  almost  a  matter  of  principle 
to  replace  decaying  props.  Do  you  mind  so 
much  not  going  about  unless  I  can  be  with  you?" 


84  THE  AVALANCHE 

"No,  of  course  not."  Her  voice  was  sweet 
and  submissive,  but  her  body  did  not  relax. 
She  added  graciously:  "After  all,  there  are  so 
many  luncheons,  and  we  often  dance  in  the  aft 
ernoon," 

He  had  not  thought  of  that !  What  avail  to 
guard  her  merely  in  the  evening?  It  was  not 
her  life  that  was  in  danger.  .  .  . 

And  he  seemed  as  immeasurably  far  from  ob 
taining  her  confidence  as  before.  He  had  always 
understood  that  the  ways  of  matrimonial  diplo 
macy  were  strewn  with  pitfalls  and  wished  that 
some  one  had  opened  a  school  for  married  men 
before  his  time. 

He  made  another  clumsy  attempt.  The  cab 
was  swift  and  had  almost  covered  the  long  dis 
tance  between  the  Western  Addition  and  Rus 
sian  Hill.  "Other  things  have  worried  me. 
You  are  so  generous.  Society  here  as  elsewhere 
has  its  parasites,  its  dead  beats,  trying  to  limp 
along  by  borrowing,  gambling, '  amusing, '  doing 
dirty  work  of  various  sorts.  It  has  worried  me 
lest  one  or  more  of  these  creatures  may  have 
tried  to  impose  on  you  with  hard  luck  tales — 
borrow " 


THE  AVALANCHE  85 

She  laughed  hysterically.  "  Price,  you  are 
too  funny !  I  do  lend  occasionally — to  the  girls, 
when  their  allowance  runs  out  before  the  first 
of  the  month ;  but  I  don't  know  any  dead  beats. ' ' 

He  plunged  desperately.  "Your  mother's 
voice  sounded  rather  agitated  for  her.  Of 
course  I  did  not  stop  to  listen,  but  it  occurred 
to  me  that  she  may  have  been  gambling  in 
stocks,  or  have  got  into  some  bad  land  deal. 
She  is  so  confoundedly  close-mouthed — if  she 
wants  money  send  her  to  me." 

Helene  sat  very  straight.  Her  little  aquiline 
profile  against  the  passing  street  lights  was  as 
aloof  as  imperial  features  on  an  ancient  coin. 

"Really,  Price,  I  don't  think  you  can  be  as 
busy  as  you  pretend  if  you  have  time  to  indulge 
in  such  flights  of  imagination.  Maman  has 
never  tried  to  borrow  a  penny  of  me,  and  she  is 
the  last  person  on  earth  to  gamble  in  stocks  or 
any  thing  else.  Or  to  buy  land  except  on  expert 
advice.  I  think  she  has  given  up  that  idea,  any 
how.  She  said  this  evening  she  thought  it  was 
time  for  her  to  visit  our  people  in  Rouen." 

' '  Oh,  she  did !  Helene,  I  must  tell  you  frankly 
that  I  heard  her  reproach  you  for  having 


86  THE  AVALANCHE 

broken  a  promise,  and  she  spoke  with  deep  feel 
ing." 

It  was  possible  that  the  Roman  profile  turned 
white,  but  in  the  dusk  of  the  car  he  could  not 
be  sure.  His  wife,  however,  merely  shrugged 
her  shoulders  and  replied  calmly: 

' ;  My  dear  Price,  if  that  has  worried  you,  why 
didn't  you  say  so  at  once?  I  am  rather  ashamed 
to  tell  you,  all  the  same.  Maman  has  been  at 
me  lately  to  persuade  you  to  let  her  have  the 
ruby  for  a  week.  She  is  dreadfully  super 
stitious,  poor  maman,  and  is  convinced  it  would 
bring  her  some  tremendous  good  fortune " 

''I  have  never  met  a  woman  who,  I  could 
swear,  was  freer  from  superstition " 

Price  closed  his  lips  angrily.  Of  what  use 
to  tax  her  feminine  defenses  further?  He  had 
known  her  long  enough  to  be  sure  she  would 
rather  tell  the  truth  than  lie.  It  was  evident 
that  she  had  no  intention  of  lowering  her  bar 
riers,  and  he  must  play  the  game  from  the  other 
end :  get  the  proof  he  needed  and  engineer  his 
mother-in-law  out  of  the  United  States. 

Some  time,  however,  he  would  have  it  out 
with  his  wife.  Being  a  business  man  and  al- 


THE  AVALANCHE  87 

ways  alert  to  outwit  the  other  man,  he  wanted 
neither  intrigue  nor  mystery  in  his  home,  but  a 
serene  happiness  founded  upon  perfect  confi 
dence.  He  found  it  impossible  to  remain  ap 
palled  or  angry  at  his  wife's  readiness  of  re 
source  in  guarding  a  family  secret  that  must 
have  shocked  the  youth  in  her  almost  out  of 
existence. 

He  patted  her  hand,  and  felt  its  chill  within 
the  glove. 

"It  was  like  you  never  to  have  mentioned 
it,"  he  murmured.  "For,  of  course,  it  is  quite 
impossible." 

"That  is  what  I  told  her  decidedly  to-night, 
and  I  do  not  think  she  will  ask  again.  It  hurts 
me  to  refuse  dear  maman  anything.  Her  devo 
tion  to  me  has  been  wonderful — but  wonderful," 
she  added  on  a  defiant  note. 

"A  mother's  devotion,  particularly  to  a  girl 
of  your  sort,  does  not  make  any  call  upon  my 
exclamation  points.  But  here  we  are." 

in 

The  car  rolled  up  the  graded  driveway 
Gwynne  had  built  for  the  old  San  Francisco 


88  THE  AVALANCHE 

house  that  before  his  day  had  been  approached 
by  an  almost  perpendicular  flight  of  wooden 
steps.  They  were  late  and  the  company  had  as 
sembled  :  the  Thorntons,  Trennahans,  and  eight 
or  ten  young  people,  all  of  whom  would  be  chap 
eroned  by  the  married  women  to  the  dance  at 
the  Fairmont. 

Russian  Hill  had  escaped  the  fire,  but  Nob 
Hill  had  been  burnt  down  to  its  bones,  and  the 
Thorntons  and  Trennahans  had  not  rebuilt,  pre 
ferring,  like  many  others,  to  live  the  year  round 
in  their  country  homes  and  use  the  hotels  in 
winter. 

The  moment  Helene  entered  the  drawing-room 
it  was  evident  that  the  ruby  was  to  make  as 
great  a  sensation  as  the  soul  of  woman  could 
desire.  Even  the  older  people  flocked  about 
her  and  the  girls  were  frank  and  shrill  in  their 
astonishment  and  rapture. 

"Helene!  Darling!  The  duckiest  thing — I 
never  saw  anything  so  perfectly  dandy  and 
wonderful!  I'd  go  simply  mad!  Do,  just  let 
me  touch  it!  I  could  eat  it!'* 

Mrs.  Thornton,  who  at  any  time  scorned  to 
conceal  envy,  or  pretend  indifference,  looked  at 


THE  AVALANCHE  89 

the  great  burning  stone  with  a  sigh  and  turned 
to  her  husband. 

"Why  didn't  you  manage  to  get  it  for  me?" 
she  demanded.  "It  would  be  far  more  suitable 
— a  magnificent  stone  like  that ! — on  me  than  on 
that  baby." 

"My  darling,"  murmured  Ford  anxiously, 
"I  never  laid  eyes  on  the  thing  before,  or  on 
one  like  it.  I'll  find  out  where  Buyler  got  it, 
and  try " 

"Do  you  suppose  I'd  come  out  with  a  dupli 
cate  ?  You  should  have  thought  of  it  years  ago. 
You  always  promised  to  take  me  to  India." 

"It  should  be  on  you!"  He  gazed  at  her 
adoringly.  Her  hair  was  dressed  in  a  high  and 
stately  fashion  to-night.  She  wore  a  gown  of 
gold  brocade  and  a  necklace  and  little  tiara  of 
emeralds  and  diamonds;  she  was  looking  very 
handsome  and  very  regal.  Thornton  was  a  thin, 
dark,  nervous  wisp  of  a  man,  who  had  borne  his 
share  of  the  burdens  laid  upon  his  city  in  the 
cataclysm  of  1906,  but  if  his  wife  had  demanded 
an  enormous  historic  ruby  he  would  have  done 
his  best  to  gratify  her.  But  how  the  deuce 
could  a  man 


90  THE  AVALANCHE 

Mrs.  Gwynne  was  holding  the  stone  in  her 
hand  and  smiling  into  its  flaming  depths  with 
out  envy.  She  was  one  of  those  women  of  daz 
zling  white  skin,  black  hair  and  blue  eyes,  who, 
when  wise,  never  wear  any  jewels  but  pearls. 
She  wore  the  Gwynne  pearls  to-night  and  a 
shimmering  white  gown. 

Ruyler  glanced  round  the  fine  old  room  with 
the  warm  feeling  of  satisfaction  he  always  ex 
perienced  at  a  San  Francisco  function,  where 
the  women  were  almost  as  invariably  pretty  as 
they  were  gay  and  friendly.  He  did  not  like 
the  younger  men  he  met  on  these  occasions  as 
well  as  he  did  many  of  the  older  ones ;  the  seri 
ous  ones  would  not  waste  their  time  on  society, 
and  there  were  too  many  of  the  sort  who  were 
asked  everywhere  because  they  had  made  a  cult 
of  fashion,  whether  they  could  afford  it  or  not. 
A  few  were  the  sons  of  wealthy  parents,  and 
were  more  dissipated  than  those  obliged  to 
"hold  down"  a  job  that  provided  them  with 
money  enough  above  their  bare  living  expenses 
to  make  them  useful  and  presentable. 

Euyler  looked  upon  both  sorts  as  cumberers 
of  the  earth,  and  only  tolerated  them  in  his  own 


THE  AVALANCHE  91 

house  when  his  wife  gave  a  party  and  dancing 
men  must  be  had  at  any  price. 

There  was  one  man  here  to-night  for  whom 
he  had  always  held  particular  detestation. 
His  name  was  Nicolas  Doremus.  He  was  a 
broker  in  a  small  way,  but  Buyler  guessed  that 
he  made  the  best  part  of  his  income  at  bridge, 
possibly  poker.  He  lived  with  two  other  men 
in  a  handsome  apartment  in  one  of  the  new 
buildings  that  were  changing  the  old  skyline  of 
San  Francisco.  His  dancing  teas  and  suppers 
were  admirably  appointed  and  the  most  exclu 
sive  people  went  to  them. 

Euyler  knew  his  history  in  a  general  way. 
His  father  had  made  a  fortune  in  "Con.  Vir 
ginia"  in  the  Seventies,  and  his  mother  for  a 
few  years  had  been  the  social  equal  of  the 
women  who  now  patronized  her  son.  But  un 
fortunately  the  gambling  microbe  settled  down 
in  Harry  Doremus'  veins,  and  shortly  after  his 
son  was  born  he  engaged  his  favorite  room  at 
the  Cliff  House  and  blew  out  his  brains.  His 
wife  was  left  with  a  large  house,  which  as  a  last 
act  of  grace  he  had  forborne  to  mortgage  and 
made  over  to  her  by  deed.  She  immediately 


92  THE  AVALANCHE 

advertised  for  boarders,  and  as  her  cooking  was 
excellent  and  she  had  the  wit  to  drop  out  of 
society  and  give  her  undivided  attention  to  busi 
ness,  she  prospered  exceedingly. 

She  concentrated  her  ambitions  upon  her  only 
child;  sent  him  to  a  private  school  patronized 
by  the  sons  of  the  wealthy,  and  herself  taught 
him  every  ingratiating  social  art.  She  wanted 
him  to  go  to  college,  but  by  this  time  "Nick" 
was  nineteen  and  as  highly  developed  a  snob  as 
her  maternal  heart  had  planned.  Knowing  that 
he  must  support  himself  eventually,  he  was  de 
termined  to  begin  his  business  career  at  once, 
and  believed,  with  some  truth,  that  there  was  a 
prejudice  in  this  broad  field  against  college 
men.  He  entered  the  brokerage  firm  of  a  bach 
elor  who  had  occupied  Mrs.  Doremus'  best  suite 
for  fifteen  years,  and  made  a  satisfactory  clerk, 
the  while  he  cultivated  his  mother's  old  friends. 

AThen  Mrs.  Doremus  died  he  sold  the  house 
and  good  will  for  a  considerable  sum,  and,  com 
bining  it  with  her  respectable  savings,  formed 
a  partnership  with  two  other  young  fellows, 
whose  fathers  were  rich,  but  old-fashioned 
enough  to  insist  that  their  sons  should  work. 


THE  AVALANCHE  93 

Nick  did  most  of  the  work.  His  partners,  dur 
ing  the  rainy  season,  sat  with  their  feet  on  the 
radiator  and  read  the  popular  magazines,  and 
in  fine  weather  upheld  the  out-door  traditions 
of  the  state. 

The  firm  had  a  slender  patronage,  as  Ruyler 
happened  to  know,  but  Doremus  was  a  member 
of  the  Pacific  Union  Club,  and  although  he  dined 
out  every  night,  he  must  have  spent  six  or  seven 
thousand  a  year.  It  was  amiably  assumed  that 
his  social  services, — he  played  and  sang  and 
often  entertained  exacting  groups  throughout 
an  entire  evening — his  fetching  and  carrying 
for  one  rich  old  lady,  accounted  for  his  ability  to 
keep  out  of  debt  and  pay  for  his  many  extrava 
gances  ;  but  Ruyler  knew  that  he  was  principally 
esteemed  at  the  small  green  table,  and  he 
vaguely  recalled  as  he  looked  over  his  head  to 
night  that  he  had  heard  disconnected  murmurs 
of  less  honorable  sources  of  revenue. 

As  Ruyler  turned  away  with  a  frown  he  met 
G  Wynne's  eyes  traveling  from  the  same  direc 
tion.  "I  didn't  ask  him,"  he  said  apologetic 
ally.  "Hate  men  too  well  dressed.  Looks  as  if 
he  posed  for  tailors'  ads  in  the  weeklies.  Never 


94  THE  AVALANCHE 

could  stand  the  social  parasite  anyhow,  but 
Aileen  Lawton  asked  Isabel  to  let  her  bring  him, 
as  they  are  going  to  open  the  ball  to-night  with 
some  new  kind  of  turkey  trot. 

"Glad  I'm  off  for  "Washington.  California's 
the  greatest  place  on  earth  in  the  dry  sea 
son,  but  I'd  have  passed  few  winters  here  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  the  work  we  all  had  to  do,  and 
even  then  it  would  have  been  heavy  going  with 
out  my  wife's  companionship." 

Euyler  sighed.  Should  he  ever  enjoy  his 
wife's  companionship?  And  into  what  sort  of 
woman  would  she  develop  if  forced  along 
crooked  ways  by  ugly  secrets,  blackmail,  per 
petual  lying  and  deceit?  He  longed  impatiently 
for  the  decisive  interview  with  Spaulding  on  the 
morrow.  Then,  at  least  he  could  prepare  for 
action,  and,  after  all,  even  of  more  importance 
now  than  winning  his  wife 's  confidence  and  sav 
ing  her  from  mental  anguish,  was  the  averting 
of  a  scandal  that  would  echo  across  the  conti 
nent  straight  into  the  ears  of  his  half-recon 
ciled  father. 


THE  AVALANCHE  95 

rv 

It  was  about  halfway  through  dinner  that  the 
primitive  man  in  him  routed  every  variety  of 
apprehension  that  had  tormented  him  since  two 
o'clock  that  afternoon. 

Trennahan,  another  distinguished  New 
Yorker,  who  had  made  his  home  in  California 
for  many  years,  had  taken  in  Mrs.  Gwynne,  and 
his  Spanish  California  wife  sat  at  the  foot  of 
the  table  with  the  host.  Ford  had  been  given  a 
lively  girl,  Aileen  Lawton,  to  dissipate  the 
financial  anxieties  of  the  day,  and,  to  Euyler's 
satisfaction,  Mrs.  Thornton  had  fallen  to  his  lot 
and  he  sat  on  the  left  of  Isabel.  In  this  little 
group  at  the  head  of  the  table,  his  chosen  in 
timates,  who  were  more  interested  in  the  affairs 
of  the  world  than  in  Consummate  California, 
Ruyler  had  forgotten  his  wife  for  a  time  and 
had  not  noticed  with  whom  she  had  gone  in  to 
dinner. 

But  during  an  interval  when  Mrs.  Thorn 
ton's  attention  had  been  captured  by  the  man 
on  her  right,  and  the  others  drawn  into  a  dis 
cussion  over  the  merits  of  the  new  mayor,  Price 


96  THE  AVALANCHE 

became  aware  that  Doremus  sat  beside  his  wife 
halfway  down  the  table  on  the  opposite  side, 
and  that  they  were  talking,  if  not  arguing,  in 
a  low  tone,  oblivious  for  the  moment  of  the  com 
pany. 

The  deferential  bend  was  absent  from  the 
neck  of  the  adroit  social  explorer,  his  head  was 
alertly  poised  above  the  lovely  young  matron 
whose  beauty,  wealth,  and  foreign  personality, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  importance  of  her  hus 
band,  gave  her  something  of  the  standing  of 
royalty  in  the  aristocratic  little  republic  of  San 
Francisco  Society.  There  was  a  vague  threat 
in  that  poise,  as  if  at  any  moment  venom  might 
dart  down  and  strike  that  drooping  head  with 
its  crown  of  blue-black  braids.  Suddenly  Helene 
lifted  her  eyes,  full  of  appeal,  to  the  round  pale 
blue  orbs  that  at  this  moment  openly  expressed 
a  cold  and  ruthless  mind. 

Ruyler  endeavored  to  piece  together  those 
disconnected  whispers — letters  discovered  or 
stolen — blackmail — but  such  whispers  were 
too  often  the  whiffs  from  energetic  but  empty 
minds,  always  floating  about  and  never  seem 
ing  to  bring  any  culprit  to  book. 


THE  AVALANCHE  97 

Had  this  man  got  hold  of  his  wife's  secret? 

But  this  merely  sequacious  thought  was 
promptly  routed.  The  young  man,  who  was  un 
deniably  good  looking  and  was  rumored  to  pos 
sess  a  certain  cold  charm  for  women — although, 
to  be  sure,  the  wary  San  Francisco  heiress  had 
so  far  been  impervious  to  it — was  now  leaning 
over  Mrs.  Price  Ruyler  with  a  coaxing  possess 
ive  air,  and  the  appeal  left  Helene's  eyes  as  she 
smiled  coquettishly  and  began  to  talk  with  her 
usual  animation;  but  still  in  a  tone  that  was 
little  more  than  a  murmur. 

She  moved  her  shoulder  closer  to  the  man 
she  evidently  was  bent  upon  fascinating,  and 
her  long  eyelashes  swept  up  and  down  while  her 
black  eyes  flashed  and  her  pink  color  deepened. 

There  was  a  faint  amusement  mixed  with 
Doremus'  habitual  air  of  amiable  deference,  and 
somewhat  more  of  assurance,  but  he  was  as 
absorbed  as  Helene  and  had  no  eyes  for  Janet 
Maynard,  on  his  left,  whose  fortune  ran  into 
millions. 

For  a  moment  Ruyler,  who  had  kept  his  nerve 
through  several  years  of  racking  strain  which 
even  an  American  is  seldom  called  upon  to  sur- 


98  THE  AVALANCHE 

vive,  wondered  if  lie  were  losing  his  mind.  To 
business  and  all  its  fluctuations  and  even  ab 
normalities,  he  had  been  bred;  there  was  prob 
ably  no  condition  possible  in  the  world  of  finance 
and  commerce  which  could  shatter  his  self-pos 
session,  cloud  his  mental  processes.  But  his 
personal  life  had  been  singularly  free  of  storms. 
Even  his  emotional  upheaval,  when  he  had 
fallen  completely  in  love  for  the  first  time,  had 
lacked  that  torment  of  uncertainty  which  might 
have  played  a  certain  havoc,  for  a  time,  with 
those  quick  unalterable  decisions  of  the  busi 
ness  hour;  and  even  his  engagement  had  only 
lasted  a  month. 

It  was  true  that  during  the  past  six  months 
he  had  worried  off  and  on  about  the  shadow 
that  had  fallen  upon  his  wife's  spirits  and  af 
fected  his  own,  but,  when  he  had  had  time  to 
think  of  it,  before  yesterday  morning,  he  had 
assumed  it  was  due  to  some  phase  of  feminine 
psychology  which  he  had  never  mastered.  That 
she  could  be  interested  in  another  man  never 
had  crossed  his  mind,  in  spite  of  his  passing 
flare  of  jealousy.  She  was  still  passionately  in 


THE  AVALANCHE  99 

love  with  him,  for  all  her  vagaries — or  so  he 
had  thought 

Euyler  was  conscious  of  a  riotous  confusion 
of  mind  that  really  made  him  apprehensive. 
Had  he  witnessed  that  scene  on  the  dummy — 
this  afternoon? — it  seemed  a  long  while  ago — 
had  he  heard  those  portentous  words  of  his 
mother-in-law  to  his  wife? — had  they  meant 
that  she  had  warned  her  daughter  against  the 
bad  blood  in  her  veins,  extracted  a  promise — 
broken ! — to  walk  in  the  narrow  way  of  the  duti 
ful  wife — mercifully  spared  by  a  fortunate  mar 
riage  the  terrible  temptations  of  the  older 
woman's  youth?  Had  Helene  confessed  ...  in 
desperate  need  of  help,  advice?  .  .  .  Doremus 
was  just  the  bounder  to  compromise  a  woman 
and  then  blackmail  her.  .  .  .  Good  God !  What 
was  it? 

For  all  his  mental  turmoil  he  realized  that 
here  alone  was  the  only  possible  menace  to  his 
life's  happiness.  His  mother-in-law's  past  was 
a  bitter  pill  for  a  proud  man  to  swallow,  and 
there  was  even  the  possibility  of  his  wife's  il 
legitimacy,  but,  after  all,  those  were  matters  be- 


ioo  THE  AVALANCHE 

longing  to  the  past,  and  the  past  quickly  re 
ceded  to  limbo  these  days. 

Even  an  open  scandal,  if  some  one  of  the 
offal  sheets  of  San  Francisco  got  hold  of  the 
story  and  published  it,  would  be  forgotten  in 
time.  But  this — if  his  wife  had  fallen  in  love 
with  another  man — and  women  had  no  discrimi 
nation  where  love  was  concerned — (if  a  decent 
chap  got  a  lovely  girl  it  was  mainly  by  luck; 
the  rotters  got  just  as  good) — then  indeed  he 
was  in  the  midst  of  disaster  without  end.  The 
present  was  chaos  and  the  future  a  blank.  He  'd 
enlist  in  the  first  war  and  get  himself  shot.  .  .  . 

Helene  had  a  charming  light  coquetry,  wholly 
French,  and  she  exercised  it  indiscriminately, 
much  to  the  delight  of  the  old  beaux,  for  she 
loved  to  please,  to  be  admired;  she  had  an  in 
nocent  desire  that  all  men  should  think  her 
quite  beautiful  and  irresistible.  Even  her  hus 
band  had  never  seen  her  in  an  unbecoming  des 
habille;  she  coquetted  with  him  shamelessly, 
whenever  she  was  not  too  gloriously  serious  and 
intent  only  upon  making  him  happy.  Until 
lately 

This  was  by  no  means  her  ordinary  form. 


THE  AVALANCHE  101 

He  had  come  upon  too  many  couples  in  remote 
corners  of  conservatories,  had  been  a  not  un 
accomplished  principal  in  his  own  day  .  .  . 
there  was,  beyond  question,  some  deep  under 
standing  between  her  and  this  man. 

Suddenly  Kuyler's  gaze  burned  through  to 
his  wife's  consciousness.  She  moved  her  eyes 
to  his,  flushed  to  her  hair,  then  for  a  moment 
looked  almost  gray.  But  she  recovered  herself 
immediately  and  further  showed  her  remarkable 
powers  of  self-possession  by  turning  back  to  her 
partner  and  talking  to  him  with  animation  in 
stead  of  plunging  into  conversation  with  the 
man  on  her  right. 

At  the  same  moment  Ruyler  became  subtly 
aware  that  Mrs.  Thornton  was  looking  at  his 
wife  and  Doremus,  and  as  his  eyes  focused  he 
saw  her  long,  thin,  mobile  mouth  curl  and  her 
eyes  fill  with  open  disdain.  The  mist  in  his 
brain  fled  as  abruptly  as  an  inland  fog  out  in 
the  bay  before  one  of  the  sudden  winds  of  the 
Pacific.  In  any  case,  his  mind  hardly  could 
have  remained  in  a  state  of  confusion  for  long ; 
but  that  his  young  wife  was  being  openly  con 
temned  by  the  cleverest  as  well  as  the  most 


102  THE  AVALANCHE 

powerful  woman  in  San  Francisco  was  enough 
to  restore  his  equilibrium  in  a  flash.  Whatever 
his  wife's  indiscretions,  it  was  his  business  to 
protect  her  until  such  time  as  he  had  proof  of 
more  than  indiscretion.  And  in  this  instance  he 
should  be  his  own  detective. 

He  turned  to  Mrs.  Thornton. 

"Going  on  to  the  Fairmont!"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  have  a  new  gown — have  you  ad 
mired  it?  Arrived  from  Paris  last  night — and 
I  am  chaperoning  two  of  these  girls.  You  are 
not,  of  course?" 

"I  did  intend  to,  but  it's  no  go.  Still,  I  may 
drop  in  late  and  take  my  wife  home 

"Let  me  take  her  home."  Was  his  imagina 
tion  morbid,  or  was  there  something  both  per 
emptory  and  eager  in  Mrs.  Thornton's  tones? 
"I'm  stopping  at  the  Fairmont,  of  course,  but 
Fordy  and  I  often  take  a  drive  after  a  hot 
night  and  a  heavy  supper." 

"If  you  would  take  her  home  in  case  I  miss 
it.  I  must  go  to  the  office " 

"  I  'd  like  to.  That 's  settled. ' '  This  time  her 
tones  were  warm  and  friendly.  Euyler  knew 
that  Mrs.  Thornton  did  not  like  his  wife,  but 


THE  AVALANCHE  103 

her  friendliness  toward  him,  since  her  return 
from  Europe  three  or  four  months  ago,  had  in 
creased,  if  anything.  His  mind  was  now  work 
ing  with  its  accustomed  keen  clarity.  He  re 
called  that  there  had  been  no  surprise  mixed 
with  the  contempt  in  her  regard  of  his  wife  and 
Doremus.  .  .  .  He  also  recalled  that  several 
times  of  late  when  he  had  met  her  at  the  Fair 
mont — where  he  often  lunched  with  a  group  of 
men — she  had  regarded  him  with  a  curious  con 
sidering  glance,  which  he  suddenly  vocalized 
as:  "How  long?" 

This  affair  had  been  going  on  for  some  time, 
then.  Either  it  was  common  talk,  or  some  cir 
cumstance  had  enlightened  Mrs.  Thornton 
alone. 

He  glanced  around  the  table.  No  one  ap 
peared  to  be  taking  the  slightest  notice  of  one 
of  many  flirtations.  At  least,  whatever  his 
wife's  infatuation,  he  could  avert  gossip.  Mrs. 
Thornton  might  be  a  tigress,  but  she  was  not  a 
cat. 

"When  do  you  go  down  to  Burlingame?" 
she  asked. 

"Not  for  two  or  three  weeks  yet.    I  don't 


104  THE  AVALANCHE 

fancy  merely  sleeping  in  the  country.  But  by 
that  time  things  will  ease  up  a  bit  and  I  can 
get  down  every  day  in  time  to  have  a  game  of 
golf  before  dinner." 

"Shall  Mrs.  Ruyler  migrate  with  the  rest?" 

"Hardly." 

"It  will  be  dull  for  her  in  town.  No  reflec 
tions  on  your  charming  society,  but  of  course 
she  does  not  get  much  of  it,  and  she  will  miss 
her  young  friends.  After  all,  she  is  a  child  and 
needs  playmates." 

Euyler  darted  at  her  a  sharp  look,  but  she  was 
smiling  amiably.  Doremus  and  the  men  he 
lived  with  in  town  had  a  bungalow  at  Bur- 
lingame  and  they  bought  their  commutation 
tickets  at  precisely  the  fashionable  moment. 
' '  She  will  stay  in  town, ' '  he  said  shortly.  * '  She 
needs  a  rest,  and  San  Francisco  is  the  healthiest 
spot  on  earth." 

"But  trying  to  the  nerves  when  what  we  in 
accurately  call  the  trade  winds  begin.  Why  not 
let  her  stay  with  me?  Of  course  she  would  be 
lonely  in  her  own  house,  and  is  too  young  to  stay 
there  alone  anyhow,  but  I'd  like  to  put  her  up, 
and  you  certainly  could  run  down  week-ends — 


THE  AVALANCHE  105 

possibly  oftener.  American  men  are  always  ob 
sessed  with  the  idea  that  they  are  twice  as  busy 
as  they  really  are." 

"You  are  too  good.  I'll  put  it  up  to  Helene. 
Of  course  it  is  for  her  to  decide.  I'd  like  it 
mighty  well."  But  grateful  as  he  was,  his  un 
easiness  deepened  at  her  evident  desire  to  place 
her  forces  at  his  disposal. 


CHAPTER  V 


AND  you  won't  take  me  to  the  party!"  He- 
lene  pouted  charmingly  as  her  husband 
laid  her  pink  taffeta  wrap  over  her  shoulders. 
"I  thought  you  said  you  might  make  it,  and  it 
would  be  too  delightful  to  dance  with  you  once 
more." 

"I'm  afraid  not.  The  Australian  mail  came 
in  just  as  business  closed  and  it's  on  my  mind. 
I  want  to  go  over  it  carefully  before  I  dictate 
the  answers  in  the  morning,  and  that  means  two 
or  three  hours  of  hard  work  that  will  leave  me 
pretty  well  fagged  out.  Mrs.  Thornton  has  of 
fered  to  take  you  home." 

"I  hate  her." 

"Oh,  please  don't!"  Euyler  smiled  into  her 
somber  eyes.  "She  wants  the  drive,  and  it 
would  be  taking  the  Gwynnes  so  far  out  of  the 
way.  Mrs.  Thornton  very  kindly  suggested  it." 

"I  hate  her,"  said  Helen  e  conclusively.    "I 

106 


THE  AVALANCHE  107 

wish  now  I'd  kept  my  own  car.  Then  I  could 
always  go  home  alone." 

"You  shall  have  a  car  next  winter.  And  this 
time  I  shall  not  permit  you  to  pay  for  it  out 
of  your  allowance — which  in  any  case  I  hope  to 
increase  by  that  time." 

Her  eyes  flamed,  but  not  with  anger.  "Then 
I'll  sell  my  electric  to  Aileen  Lawton  right 
away.  We  have  the  touring  car  in  the  coun 
try,  and  she  has  been  trying  to  make  her  father 
buy  her  an  electric " 

"I'm  afraid  you'll  be  disappointed  in  your 
bargain.  Second-hand  cars,  no  matter  what 
their  condition,  always  go  at  a  sacrifice,  and  old 
Lawton  is  a  notorious  screw.  Better  not  let  it 
go  for  two  or  three  hundreds;  you  look  very 
sweet  driving  about  in  it.  ...  Oh,  by  the  way 
— I  had  forgotten."  He  slipped  his  hand  under 
her  coat,  unfastened  the  chain  and  slipped  the 
jewel  into  his  pocket.  "I  am  sorry,"  he  said, 
with  real  contrition,  "and  almost  wish  I  had 
forgotten  the  thing;  but  I  am  a  little  super 
stitious  about  keeping  that  old  promise." 

She  laughed.  "And  yet  you  will  not  permit 
poor  maman  a  little  superstition  of  her  own! 


io8  THE  AVALANCHE 

But  I  am  rather  glad.  Everybody  at  the  ball 
will  hear  of  the  ruby,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  keep 
them  in  suspense  until  the  Thornton  fete.  Good 
night.  Don't  work  too  hard.  Couldn't  you  get 
there  for  supper!" 
"  'Fraidnot." 


He  did  go  down  to  the  office  and  glance 
through  the  Australian  mail,  but  at  a  few  mo 
ments  before  twelve  he  took  a  California  Street 
car  up  to  the  Fairmont  Hotel  and  went  directly 
to  the  ballroom.  Mrs.  Thornton  was  standing 
just  within  the  doorway,  but  came  toward  him 
with  lifted  eyebrows. 

''This  is  like  old  times,"  she  said  playfully. 

"I  found  less  mail  than  I  expected  and 
thought  I  would  come  and  have  a  dance  with 
my  wife."  His  eyes  wandered  over  the  large 
room,  gayly  decorated,  and  filled  with  dancing 
couples. 

Mrs.  Thornton  laughed.  "A  belle  like  your 
wife?  She  is  always  engaged  for  every  dance 
on  her  program  before  she  is  halfway  down  this 
corridor." 


THE  AVALANCHE  109 

''Oh,  well,  husbands  have  some  rights.  I'll 
take  it  by  force.  I  don't  see  her — she  must  be 
sitting  out." 

Mrs.  Thornton  slipped  her  arm  through  his. 
' l  This  dance  has  just  begun.  Walk  me  up  and 
down.  I  am  tired  of  standing  on  one  foot." 

They  strolled  down  the  corridor  and  through 
the  large  central  hall.  Older  folks  sat  or  stood 
in  groups;  a  few  young  couples  were  sitting 
out.  Ruyler  did  not  see  his  wife,  and  concluded 
she  had  been  resting  at  the  moment  in  the 
dowager  ranks  against  the  wall  of  the  ballroom. 
The  music  ceased  sooner  than  he  expected  and 
Mrs.  Thornton,  who  had  been  talking  with  ani 
mation  on  the  subject  of  several  fine  pictures 
she  had  bought  while  abroad  for  the  Museum 
in  Golden  Gate  Park,  including  one  by  Mase- 
field  Price,  broke  off  with  an  impatient  exclama 
tion:  " Bother!  I  must  run  up  to  my  room  at 
once  and  telephone.  Wait  for  me  here." 

She  steered  him  toward  a  group  of  men. 
"Mr.  Gwynne,  keep  Mr.  Ruyler  from  causing  a 
riot  in  the  ballroom.  He  insists  upon  dancing 
with  his  wife.  Hold  him  by  force. ' ' 

They  were  standing  near  the  staircase  and 


no  THE  AVALANCHE 

some  distance  from  the  lift.  Mrs.  Thornton  ran 
up  the  stairs,  pausing  for  an  irresistible  mo 
ment  and  looking  down  at  the  company.  As  she 
stood  there,  poised,  she  looked  a  royal  figure 
with  her  cloth  of  gold  train  covering  the  steps 
below  her  and  her  high  and  flashing  head. 
""Wait  for  me,"  she  said,  imperiously  to  Price. 
"I  cannot  meander  down  that  corridor,  de 
serted  and  alone." 

Ruyler  smiled  at  her,  but  said  to  Gwynne: 
"I'll  just  go  and  engage  my  wife  for  a  dance 
and  be  back  in  a  jiffy " 

Gwynne  clasped  his  hand  about  Euyler's  arm. 
"Just  a  moment,  old  chap.  I  want  your  opin 
ion " 

"But  there  is  the  music  again.  I'll  be  knock 
ing  people  over " 

"You  will  if  you  go  now,  and  there'll  be  danc 
ing  for  hours  yet.  Your  wife  has  been  dividing 
up — now,  tell  me  if  you  back  me  in  this  proposi 
tion  or  not.  I'm  going  to  Washington  to  repre 
sent  you  fellows " 

But  Euyler  had  broken  politely  away  and  was 
walking  down  the  long  corridor.  When  he  ar 
rived  at  the  ballroom  he  saw  at  a  glance  that 


THE  AVALANCHE  1 1 1 

his  wife  was  not  there,  for  the  floor  was  only 
half  filled.  But  there  were  other  rooms  where 
dancers  sat  in  couples  or  groups  when  tired. 
He  went  hastily  through  all  of  them,  but  saw 
nothing  of  his  wife.  Nor  of  Doremus. 

Mrs.  Thornton  had  gone  in  search  of  her. 

And  Gwynne  knew. 

This  time  the  hot  blood  was  pounding  in  his 
head.  He  felt  as  he  imagined  madmen  did  when 
about  to  run  amok.  Or  quite  as  primitive  as 
any  Calif ornian  of  the  surging  " Fifties." 

He  was  in  one  of  the  smaller  rooms  and  he  sat 
down  in  a  corner  with  his  back  to  the  few  peo 
ple  in  it  and  endeavored  to  take  hold  of  him 
self;  the  conventional  training  of  several  life 
times  and  his  own  intense  pride  forbade  a  scene 
in  public.  But  his  curved  fingers  longed  for 
Doremus'  throat  and  he  made  up  his  mind  that 
if  his  awful  suspicions  were  vindicated  he  would 
beat  his  wife  black  and  blue.  That  was  far 
more  sensible  and  manly  than  running  whining 
to  a  divorce  court. 

The  effort  at  self-control  left  him  gasping, 
but  when  he  rose  from  his  shelter  he  was  out 
wardly  composed,  and  determined  to  seek 


112  THE  AVALANCHE 

Gwynne  and  force  the  truth  from  him.  He 
would  not  discuss  his  wife  with  another  woman. 
And  whatever  this  hideous  tragedy  brooding 
over  his  life  he  would  go  out  and  come  to  grips 
with  it  at  once. 

in 

And  in  the  corridor  he  saw  his  wife  chatting 
gayly  with  a  group  of  young  friends.  Her  color 
was  paler  than  usual,  perhaps,  but  that  was  not 
uncommon  at  a  party,  and  otherwise  she  was 
as  unruffled,  as  normal  in  appearance  and  man 
ner,  as  when  they  had  parted  at  the  Gwynnes'. 

Nevertheless,  he  went  directly  up  to  her,  and 
as  she  gave  a  little  cry  of  pleased  surprise,  he 
drew  her  hand  through  his  arm.  "Come!"  he 
said  imperiously.  "You  are  to  dance  this  with 
me.  I  broke  away  on  purpose " 

"But,  darling,  I  am  full  up " 

"You  have  skipped  at  least  two.  I  have  been 
looking  everywhere  for  you " 

"Polly  Roberts  dragged  me  upstairs  to  see 
the  new  gowns  M.  Dupont  brought  her  from 
Paris.  They  came  this  afternoon — so  did  Mrs. 
Thornton's — but  of  course  I'll  dance  this  with 


THE  AVALANCHE  113 

you.  You  don't  look  well,"  she  added  anx 
iously.  "Aren't  you?" 

'  *  Quite,  but  rather  tired — mentally.  I  need  a 
dance.  ..." 

He  wondered  if  she  had  gently  propelled  him 
down  the  corridor.  They  were  some  distance 
from  the  group.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to 
go  back  and  ask  if  his  wife's  story  were  true. 
Mrs.  Thornton  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  neither 
in  the  corridor  nor  in  the  ballroom.  Nor  was 
Doremus.  He  set  his  teeth  grimly  and  managed 
to  smile  down  upon  his  wife. 

"I  shall  insist  upon  having  more  than  one," 
he  said  gallantly.  '  *  At  least  three  hesitations. ' ' 

She  drew  in  her  breath  with  a  mock  sigh  and 
swept  from  under  her  long  lashes  a  glance  that 
still  had  the  power  to  thrill  him.  "Outrageous, 
but  I  shall  try  to  bear  up,"  and  the  next  mo 
ment  they  were  giving  a  graceful  exhibition  of 
the  tango. 

"I  don't  see  your  friend  Doremus,"  he  said 
casually,  as  he  stood  fanning  her  at  the  end  of 
the  dance. 

She  lifted  her  eyebrows  haughtily.  "My 
friend  ?  That  parasite  t ' ' 


114  THE  AVALANCHE 

"You  seemed  very  friendly  at  dinner." 

"I  usually  am  with  my  dinner  companion. 
One's  hostess  is  to  be  considered.  Oh — I  re 
member — he  was  telling  me  some  very  amusing 
gossip,  although  he  teased  me  into  fearing  he 
wouldn't.  Now,  if  you  are  going  to  dance  this 
hesitation  with  me  you  had  better  whirl  me  off. 
It  is  Mr.  Thornton's,  and  I  see  him  coming." 

Buyler  did  not  see  Doremus  until  supper  was 
half  over  and  then  the  young  man  entered  the 
dining-room  hurriedly,  his  usually  serene  brow 
lowering  and  his  lips  set.  He  walked  directly 
up  to  Helene. 

' '  Beastly  luck ! "  he  exclaimed.  ' '  Hello,  Euy- 
ler.  Didn  't  know  you  honored  parties  any  more. 
I  had  to  break  away  to  meet  the  Overland  train 
— beastly  thing  was  late,  of  course.  Then  I  had 
to  take  them  to  five  hotels  before  I  could  settle 
them.  They  had  two  beastly  little  dogs  and  the 
hotels  wouldn't  take  them  in  and  they  wouldn't 
give  up  the  dogs.  Some  one  ought  to  set  up  a 
high-class  dog  hotel.  Sure  it  would  pay.  But 
you'll  give  me  the  first  after  supper,  won't 
you?" 

Helene  gave  him  a  casual  smile  that  was  a 


THE  AVALANCHE  115 

poor  reward  for  his  elaborate  apology.  "So 
sorry,"  she  said  with  the  sweet  distant  man 
ner  in  which  she  disposed  of  bores  and  climb 
ers,  "but  Mr.  Ruyler  and  I  are  both  tired.  We 
are  going  home  directly  after  supper." 


CHAPTER  VI 


ON  the  following  day  at  six  o'clock  Ruyler 
went  to  Long's  to  meet  Jake  Spaulding. 
By  a  supreme  effort  of  will  he  had  put  his  pri 
vate  affairs  out  of  his  mind  and  concentrated 
on  the  business  details  which  demanded  the  most 
highly  trained  of  his  faculties.  But  now  he  felt 
relaxed,  almost  languid,  as  he  walked  along 
Montgomery  Street  toward  the  rendezvous.  He 
met  no  one  he  knew.  The  historic  Montgomery 
Street,  once  the  center  of  the  city's  life,  was  al 
most  deserted,  but  half  rebuilt.  He  could  saun 
ter  and  think  undisturbed. 

What  was  he  to  hear?  And  what  bearing 
would  it  be  found  to  have  on  his  wife's  conduct? 

He  had  gone  to  sleep  last  night  as  sure  as  a 
man  may  be  of  anything  that  his  wife  was  no 
more  interested  in  Doremus  than  in  any  other 
of  the  young  men  who  found  time  to  dance  at 
tendance  upon  idle,  bored,  but  virtuous  wives. 

116 


THE  AVALANCHE  117 

If  the  man  knew  her  secret  and  were  endeav 
oring  to  exact  blackmail  he  would  pay  his  price 
with  joy — after  thrashing  him,  for  he  would 
have  sacrificed  the  half  of  his  fortune  never  to 
experience  again  not  only  the  demoralizing  at 
tack  of  jealous  madness  of  the  night  before, 
which  had  brought  in  its  wake  the  uneasy  doubt 
if  civilization  were  as  far  advanced  as  he  had 
fondly  imagined,  but  the  sensation  of  amazed 
contempt  which  had  swept  over  him  at  the  din 
ner  table  as  he  had  seen  his  wife,  whom  he  had 
believed  to  be  a  woman  of  instinctive  taste  and 
fastidiousness,  manifestly  upon  intimate  terms 
with  a  creature  who  should  have  been  walking 
on  four  legs.  Better,  perhaps,  the  desire  to  kill 
a  woman  than  to  despise  her 

He  slammed  the  door  when  he  entered  the  lit 
tle  room  reserved  for  him,  and  barely  re 
strained  himself  from  flinging  his  hat  into  a 
corner  and  breaking  a  chair  on  the  table.  His 
languor  had  vanished. 

Spaulding  followed  him  immediately. 

"Howdy,"  he  said  genially,  as  he  pushed  his 
own  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  bit  hun 
grily  at  the  end  of  a  cigar.  "Suppose  you've 


ii8  THE  AVALANCHE 

been  impatient — unless  too  busy  to  think  about 
it." 

"I'd  like  to  know  what  you've  found  out  as 
quickly  as  you  can  tell  mo." 

"Well,  to  begin  with  the  kid.  I  had  some 
trouble  at  the  convent.  They're  a  close- 
mouthed  lot,  nuns.  But  I  frightened  them. 
Told  them  it  was  a  property  matter,  and  unless 
they  answered  my  questions  privately  they'd 
have  to  answer  them  in  court.  Then  they  came 
through. ' ' 

"Weflt" 

Spaulding  lit  his  cigar  and  handed  the  match 
to  Ruyler,  who  ground  it  under  his  Leel. 

"Just  about  nineteen  years  ago  a  French 
woman,  giving  her  name  as  Madame  Dubois,  ar 
rived  one  day  with  a  child  a  year  old  and  asked 
the  nuns  to  take  care  of  it,  promising  a  fancy 
payment.  The  child  had  been  on  a  farm  with 
a  wet-nurse  (French  style),  but  Madame  Du 
bois  wanted  it  to  learn  from  the  first  to  speak 
proper  English  and  French,  and  to  live  in  a 
refined  atmosphere  generally  from  the  time  it 
was  able  to  take  notice.  She  said  she  was  on 
the  stage  and  had  to  travel,  so  was  not  able  to 


THE  AVALANCHE  119 

give  the  kid  the  attention  it  should  have,  and 
the  doctor  had  told  her  that  traveling  was  bad 
for  kids  that  age,  anyhow.  Her  lawyers  would 
pay  the  baby's  board  on  the  first  of  every 
month " 

"Who  were  the  lawyers?" 

"Lawton  and  Cross." 

"I  thought  so.    Go  on." 

"The  nuns,  who,  after  all,  knew  their  Cali 
fornia,  thought  they  smelt  a  rat,  for  the  woman 
was  extraordinarily  handsome,  magnificently 
dressed ;  the  Mother  Superior — who  is  a  woman 
of  the  world,  all  right — read  the  newspapers, 
and  had  never  seen  the  name  of  Dubois — and 
knew  that  only  stars  drew  fat  salaries.  She 
asked  some  sharp  questions  about  the  father, 
and  the  woman  replied  readily  that  he  was  a 
scientific  man,  an  inventor,  and — well,  it  was 
natural,  was  it  not?  they  did  not  get  on  very 
well.  He  disliked  the  stage,  but  she  had  been 
on  it  before  she  married  him,  and  dullness  and 
want  of  money  for  her  own  needs  and  her 
child's  had  driven  her  back.  He  had  lived  in 
Los  Angeles  for  a  time,  but  had  recently  gone 
East  to  take  a  high-salaried  position.  It  was 


120  THE  AVALANCHE 

with  his  consent  that  she  asked  the  nuns  to  take 
the  child — possibly  for  two  or  three  years. 
When  she  was  a  famous  actress  and  could  leave 
the  road,  she  would  keep  house  for  her  husband 
in  New  York,  and  make  a  home  for  the  child. 

"The  Mother  Superior,  by  this  time,  had 
made  up  her  mind  that  the  father  wished  the 
child  removed  from  the  mother's  influence,  and 
although  she  took  the  whole  yarn  with  a  bag  of 
salt,  the  child  was  the  most  beautiful  she  had 
ever  seen,  and  obviously  healthy  and  amiable. 
Moreover,  the  convent  was  to  receive  two  hun 
dred  dollars  a  month " 

"What?" 

"Exactly.  Can  you  beat  it?  The  Mother 
Superior  made  up  her  mind  it  was  her  duty  to 
bring  up  the  little  thing  in  the  way  it  should  go. 
As  the  woman  was  leaving  she  said  something 
about  a  possible  reconciliation  with  her  family, 
who  lived  in  France ;  they  had  not  written  her 
since  she  went  on  the  stage.  They  were  of  a 
respectability! — of  the  old  tradition!  But  if 
they  came  round  she  might  take  the  child  to 
them,  if  her  husband  would  consent.  She  should 
like  it  to  be  brought  up  in  France 


THE  AVALANCHE  121 

"Here  the  Mother  Superior  interrupted  her 
sharply.  Was  her  husband  a  Frenchman  ?  And 
she  answered,  no  doubt  before  she  thought,  for 
these  people  always  forget  something,  that  no, 
he  was  an  American — her  family,  also,  detested 
Americans.  The  Mother  Superior  once  more 
interrupted  her  glibness.  How,  then,  did  he 
have  a  French  name?  Oh,  but  that  was  her 
stage  name — she  always  went  by  it  and  had 
given  it  without  thinking.  What  was  her  hus 
band's  name1?  After  a  second's  hesitation  she 
stupidly  give  the  name  Smith.  I  can  see  the 
mouth  of  the  Mother  Superior  as  it  set  in  a 
grim  line.  'Very  well,'  said  she,  'the  child's 
name  is  Helen  e  Smith' ;  and  although  the  woman 
made  a  wry  face  she  was  forced  to  submit. 

"The  child  remained  there  four  years,  and 
the  Mother  Superior  had  some  reason  to  believe 
that  'Madame  Dubois'  spent  a  good  part  of  that 
time  in  San  Francisco.  She  came  at  irregular 
intervals  to  see  the  child — always  in  vacation, 
when  there  were  no  pupils  in  the  convent,  and 
always  at  night.  The  Mother  Superior,  how 
ever,  thought  it  best  to  make  no  investigations, 
for  the  child  throve,  they  were  all  daffy  about 


122  THE  AVALANCHE 

her,  and  the  money  came  promptly  on  the  first 
of  every  month.  When  the  mother  came  she  al 
ways  brought  a  trunk  full  of  fine  underclothes, 
and  left  the  money  for  a  new  uniform.  Then, 
one  day,  Madame  Dubois  arrived  in  widow's 
weeds,  said  that  her  husband  was  dead,  leaving 
her  quite  well  off,  and  that  she  was  returning  to 
France. ' ' 

"And  Madame  Delano's  story  is  that  he  died 
on  the  way  to  Japan — if  it  is  the  same  wom 
an " 

"Haven't  a  doubt  of  it  myself.  I  did  a  little 
cabling  before  I  left  last  night  to  a  man  I  know 
in  Paris  to  find  out  just  when  Madame  Delano 
returned  with  her  child  to  live  with  her  family 
in  Kouen.  He  got  busy  and  here  is  his  answer 
— just  fifteen  years  ago  almost  to  the  minute." 

"Then  who  was  her  husband?" 

"There  you've  got  me — so  far.  He  was  no 
1  scientist,  who  later  accepted  a  high-salaried  po 
sition.  '  A  decent  chap  of  that  sort  would  have 
written  to  his  child,  paid  her  board  himself, 
most  likely  taken  it  away  from  the  mother " 

"But  she  may  have  kidnapped  it " 

"People  are  too  easy  traced  in  this  State — 


THE  AVALANCHE 

especially  that  sort.  Nor  do  I  believe  she  was 
an  actress.  There  never  was  any  actress  of  that 
name — not  so  you'd  notice  it,  anyhow,  and  that 
woman  would  have  been  known  for  her  looks 
and  height  even  if  she  couldn't  act.  Moreover, 
if  she  was  an  actress  there  would  be  no  sense  in 
giving  the  nuns  a  false  name,  since  she  had  ad 
mitted  the  fact.  No,  it's  my  guess  that  she  was 
something  worse." 

1 1 Well,  I've  prepared  myself  for  anything.'* 

"I  figure  out  that  she  was  the  mistress  of  one 
of  our  rich  highfliers,  and  that  when  he  got  tired 
of  her  he  pensioned  her  off,  and  she  made  up 
her  mind  to  reform  on  account  of  the  kid,  and 
went  back  to  Rouen,  and  proceeded  to  identify 
herself  with  her  class  by  growing  old  and  shape 
less  as  quickly  as  possible.  She  must  have 
adopted  the  name  Delano  in  New  York  before 
she  bought  her  steamer  ticket,  for  although  I've 
had  a  man  on  the  hunt,  the  only  Delanos  of  that 
time  were  eminently  respectable " 

"Why  are  you  sure  she  was  not  a — well — 
woman  of  the  town?" 

"Because,  there  again — there's  no  dame  of 
that  time  either  of  that  name  or  looks — neither 


124  THE  AVALANCHE 

Dubois  nor  Delano.  Of  course,  they  come  and 
go,  but  there's  every  reason  to  think  she  stayed 
right  on  here  in  S.  F.  Of  course,  I've  only  had 
twenty-four  hours — I'll  find  out  in  another 
twenty-four  just  what  conspicuous  women  of 
fifteen  to  twenty  years  ago  measure  up  to  what 
she  must  have  looked  like — I  got  the  Mother 
Superior  to  describe  her  minutely:  nearly  six 
feet,  clear  dark  skin  with  a  natural  red  color 
— no  make-up;  very  small  features,  but  well 
made — nose  and  mouth  I'm  talking  about.  The 
eyes  were  a  good  size,  very  black  with  rather 
thin  eyelashes.  Lots  of  black  hair.  Stunning 
figure.  Eather  large  ears  and  hands  and  feet. 
She  always  dressed  in  black,  the  handsomest 
sort.  They  generally  do. " 

1 ' Well?"  asked  Euyler  through  his  teeth.  He 
had  no  doubt  the  woman  was  his  mother-in-law. 
' « The  Jameses !  What  of  them? ' ' 

"That's  the  snag.  Eest  is  easy  in  compari 
son.  Innumerable  Jameses  must  have  died 
about  that  time,  to  say  nothing  of  all  the  way 
along  the  line,  but  while  some  of  the  records 
were  saved  in  1906,  most  went  up  in  smoke. 
Moreover,  there's  just  the  chance  that  he  didn't 


THE  AVALANCHE  125 

die  here.  But  that's  going  on  the  supposition 
that  the  man  died  when  she  left  California, 
which  don't  fit  our  theory.  I  still  think  he  died 
not  so  very  long  before  her  return  to  Cali 
fornia,  and  that  she  probably  came  to  collect  a 
legacy  he  had  left  her.  Otherwise,  I  should 
think  it's  about  the  last  place  she  would  have 
come  to.  I  put  a  man  on  the  job  before  I  left 
of  collecting  the  Jameses  who've  died  since  the 
fire.  Here  they  are." 
He  took  a  list  from  his  pocket  and  read : 
"James  Hogg,  bookkeeper — races,  of  course. 
James  Fowler,  saloon-keeper.  James  Despard, 
called  'Frenchy,'  a  clever  crook  who  lived  on 
blackmail — said  to  have  a  gift  for  getting  hold 
of  secrets  of  men  and  women  in  high  society 

and  squeezing  them  good  and  plenty 

He  paused.  "Of  course,  that  might  be  the 
man.  There  are  points.  I '11  have  his  life  looked 
into,  but  somehow  I  don't  believe  it.  I  have  a 
hunch  the  man  was  a  higher-up.  The  sort  of 
woman  the  Mother  Superior  described  can  get 
the  best,  and  they  take  it.  To  proceed :  James 
Dillingworth,  lawyer,  died  in  the  odor  of  sanc 
tity,  but  you  never  can  tell;  I'll  have  him  in- 


126  THE  AVALANCHE 

vestigated,  too.  James  Maston — I  haven't  had 
time  to  have  had  the  private  lives  of  any  of 
these  men  looked  into,  but  I  knew  some  of  them, 
and  Maston,  who  was  a  journalist,  left  a  wife 
and  three  children  and  was  little,  if  any,  over 
thirty.  James  Cobham,  broker — he  was  getting 
on  to  fifty,  left  about  a  million,  came  near  being 
indicted  during  the  Graft  Prosecutions,  and  al 
though  his  wife  has  been  in  the  newspapers  as 
a  society  leader  for  the  last  twenty  years,  and 
he  was  one  of  the  founders  of  Burlingame,  and 
then  was  active  in  changing  the  name  of  the  high 
part  to  Hillsboro  when  the  swells  felt  they 
couldn't  be  identified  with  the  village  any 
longer,  and  he  handed  out  wads  the  first  of 
every  year  to  charity,  there  are  stories  that  he 
came  near  being  divorced  by  his  haughty  wife 
about  fifteen  years  ago.  Of  course,  those  men 
don't  parade  their  mistresses  openly  like  they 
did  thirty  years  ago — I  mean  men  with  any  so 
cial  position  to  keep  up.  But  now  and  again  the 
wife  finds  a  note,  or  receives  an  anonymous  let 
ter,  and  gets  busy.  Then  it's  the  divorce  court, 
unless  he  can  smooth  her  down,  and  promises 
reform.  Cobham  seems  to  me  the  likeliest  man, 


THE  AVALANCHE  127 

and  I'm  going  to  start  a  thorough  investigation 
to-morrow.  These  other  Jameses  don't  hold  out 
any  promise  at  all — grocers,  clerks,  butchers. 
It's  the  list  in  hand  I'll  go  by,  and  if  nothing 
pans  out — well,  we'll  have  to  take  the  other  cue 
she  threw  out  and  try  Los  Angeles." 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  a  man  named 
Nicolas  Doremus?"  asked  Ruyler  abruptly. 

"The  society  chap?  Nothing  much  except 
that  he  don't  do  much  business  on  the  street 
but  is  supposed  to  be  pretty  lucky  at  poker  and 
bridge.  But  he  runs  with  the  crowd  the  police 
can't  or  don't  raid.  I've  never  seen  or  heard 
of  him  anywhere  he  shouldn't  be  except  with 
swell  slumming  or  roadhouse  parties.  He's 
never  interested  me.  If  Society  can  stand  that 
sort  of  bloodsucking  tailor's  model,  I  guess  I 
can.  Why  do  you  ask?  Got  anything  to  do 
with  this  case?" 

"I  have  an  idea  he  has  found  out  the  truth 
and  is  blackmailing  my  wife.  You  might  watch 
him." 

' '  Good  point.  I  will.  And  if  he 's  found  out 
the  truth  I  guess  I  can." 


CHAPTER  VH 


r          ~\ 

HELENE,  as  Ruyler  had  anticipated,  re 
fused  positively  to  accept  Mrs.  Thorn 
ton's  invitation. 

"Do  you  think  I'd  leave  you — to  come  home 
to  a  dreary  house  every  night?  Even  if  I  don't 
see  much  of  you,  at  least  you  know  I'm  there; 
and  that  if  you  have  an  evening  off  you  have 
only  to  say  the  word  and  I'll  break  any  engage 
ment — you  have  always  known  that!" 

Euyler  had  not,  but  she  looked  so  eager  and 
sweet — she  was  lunching  with  him  at  the  Palace 
Hotel  on  the  day  following  his  interview  with 
Spaulding — that  he  hastened  to  assure  her  af 
fectionately  that  the  certainty  of  his  wife's  de 
sire  for  his  constant  companionship  was  both 
his  torment  and  his  consolation. 

Helene  continued  radiantly: 

"  Besides,  darling,  Polly  Roberts  is  staying 
on.  Rex  can 't  get  away  yet. ' ' 

128 


THE  AVALANCHE  129 

"Polly  Roberts  is  not  nearly  good  enough  for 
you.  She  hasn't  an  idea  in  her  head  and  lives 
on  excitement — 

Helene  laughed  merrily.  "You  are  quite 
right,  but  there's  no  harm  in  her.  After  all, 
unless  one  goes  in  for  charities  (and  I  can't, 
Price,  yet;  besides  the  charities  here  are  won 
derfully  looked  after),  plays  bridge,  has  babies, 
takes  on  suffrage — what  is  there  to  do  but  play? 
I  suppose  once  life  was  serious  for  young 
women  of  our  class;  but  we  just  get  into  the 
habit  of  doing  nothing  because  there's  nothing 
to  do.  Take  to-morrow  as  an  example :  I  sup 
pose  Polly  and  I  will  wander  down  to  The 
Louvre  in  the  morning  and  buy  something  or 
look  at  the  new  gowns  M.  Dupont  has  just 
brought  from  Paris. 

"Then  we'll  lunch  where  there's  lots  of  life 
and  everybody  is  chatting  gayly  about  nothing. 

' '  Then  we  '11  go  to  the  Moving  Pictures  unless 
there  is  a  matinee,  and  then  we'll  motor  out  to 
the  Boulevard,  and  then  back  and  have  tea  some 
where. 

"Or,  perhaps,  we'll  motor  down  to  the  Club  at 
Burlingame  for  lunch  and  chatter  away  the  day; 


130  THE  AVALANCHE 

on  the  veranda,  or  dance.  This  afternoon  we  '11 
probably  ring  up  a  few  that  are  still  in  town 
and  dance  in  Polly 's  parlor  at  the  Fairmont. ' ' 

Helene's  lip  curled,  her  voice  had  risen.  With 
all  her  young  enjoyment  of  wealth  and  position, 
she  had  been  bred  in  a  class  where  to  idle  is  a 
crime.  "  Just  putting  in  time — time  that  ought 
to  be  as  precious  as  youth  and  high  spirits  and 
ease  and  popularity!  But  what  is  one  to  do? 
I  have  no  talents,  and  I'd  lose  caste  in  my  set 
if  I  had.  I  don't  wonder  the  Socialists  hate  us 
and  want  to  put  us  all  to  work.  No  doubt  we 
should  be  much  happier.  But  now — even  if  you 
retired  from  business,  you'd  spend  most  of  your 
time  on  the  links.  We  poor  women  wouldn't  be 
much  better  off." 

"It  does  seem  an  abnormal  state  of  affairs; 
I've  barely  given  it  a  thought,  it  has  always 
been  such  a  pleasure  to  find  you,  after  a  hard 
day's  work,  looking  invariably  dainty,  and 
pretty,  and  eloquently  suggestive  of  leisure  and 
repose.  But — to  the  student  of  history — I  sup 
pose  it  is  a  condition  that  cannot  last.  There 
must  be  some  sort  of  upheaval  due.  Well,  I 
hope  it  will  give  me  more  of  your  society." 


THE  AVALANCHE  131 

They  smiled  at  each  other  across  the  little 
table  in  perfect  confidence.  They  were  lunching 
in  the  court,  and  after  she  had  blown  him  a  kiss 
over  her  glass  of  red  wine,  her  eyes  happened 
to  travel  in  the  direction  of  the  large  dining- 
room.  She  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  distaste. 

"There  is  maman  lunching  with  that  hateful 
old  Mr.  Lawton.  He  was  in  her  sitting-room 
when  I  ran  in  to  call  on  her  yesterday,  and 
nearly  snapped  my  head  off  when  I  asked  him 
if  he  wouldn't  buy  my  electric  for  Aileen.  He 
said  it  was  time  she  began  to  learn  a  few  econo 
mies  instead  of  more  extravagances.  Poor 
darling  Aileen.  She  has  to  stay  in  town,  too, 
for  he  won't  open  the  house  in  Atherton  until 
he  is  ready  to  go  down  himself  every  night." 

"Is  he  an  old  friend  of  your  mother's?" 

' '  She  and  Papa  met  him  when  they  were  here, 
and  Mrs.  Lawton  was  very  kind  when  I  was 
born.  It's  too  bad  Mrs.  Lawton 's  dead.  She'd 
be  a  nice  friend  for  maman." 

"Perhaps  your  mother  is  asking  Mr.  Law- 
ton's  advice  about  the  investment  of  money." 

He  had  been  observing  his  wife  closely,  but 
it  was  more  and  more  apparent  that  if  Mr.  Law- 


132  THE  AVALANCHE 

ton  held  the  key  to  her  mother's  past  she  had 
not  been  informed  of  the  fact.  She  answered 
indifferently : 

"Possibly.  One  can  get  much  higher  interest 
out  here  than  in  France,  and  maman  would 
never  invest  money  without  the  best  advice. 
She  loves  me,  but  money  next.  Oh,  la !  la ! " 

"Has  she  said  anything  more  about  going 
back  to  Rouen?" 

"I  didn't  have  a  word  with  her  alone  yester 
day,  but  I'll  ask  her  to-day.  Poor  maman!  I 
fancy  the  novelty  has  worn  off  here,  and  she 
would  really  be  happier  with  her  own  people 
and  customs.  She  hates  traveling,  like  all  the 
French;  but  don't  you  think  that,  after  a  bit  we 
shall  be  able  to  go  over  to  Europe  at  least  once 
a  year  ? ' ' 

"I  am  sure  of  it.  And  while  I  am  attending 
to  business  in  London  you  could  visit  your 
mother  in  Rouen.  Tell  her  that  one  way  or 
another  I'll  manage  it." 

And  this  seemed  to  him  an  ideal  arrange 
ment! 


THE  AVALANCHE  133 


When  they  left  the  table  and  walked  through 
the  more  luxurious  part  of  the  court,  they  saw 
Madame  Delano  alone  and  enthroned  as  usual 
in  the  largest  but  most  upright  of  the  arm 
chairs.  And  as  ever  she  watched  under  her 
fat  drooping  eyelids  the  passing  throng  of 
smartly  dressed  women,  hurrying  men,  saunter 
ing,  staring  tourists.  Here  and  there  under  the 
palms  sat  small  groups  of  men,  leaning  forward, 
talking  in  low  earnest  tones,  their  faces,  whether 
of  the  keen,  narrow,  nervous,  or  of  the  fleshy, 
heavy,  square-jawed,  unimaginative,  aggressive, 
ruthless  type,  equally  expressing  that  intense 
concentration  of  mind  which  later  would  make 
their  luncheon  a  living  torment. 

Helene  threw  herself  into  a  chair  beside  her 
mother  and  fondled  her  hand.  Ruyler  noted 
that  after  Madame  Delano's  surprised  smile  of 
welcome  she  darted  a  keen  glance  of  apprehen 
sion  from  one  to  the  other,  and  her  tight  little 
mouth  relaxed  uncontrollably  in  its  supporting 
walls  of  flesh.  But  she  lowered  her  lids  imme 
diately  and  looked  approvingly  at  her  daughter, 


134  THE  AVALANCHE 

who  in  her  new  gown  of  gray,  with  gray  hat  and 
gloves  and  shoes,  was  a  dainty  and  refreshing 
picture  of  Spring.  Then  she  looked  at  Ruyler 
with  what  he  fancied  was  an  expression  of  re 
lief. 

"I  wonder  you  do  not  do  this  oftener,"  she 
said. 

"I  never  know  until  the  last  moment  when  or 
where  I  shall  be  able  to  take  lunch,  and  then  I 
often  have  to  meet  three  or  four  men.  Such  is 
life  in  the  city  of  your  adoption." 

"There  is  no  city  in  the  world  where  women 
are  so  abominably  idle  and  useless!"  And  at 
the  moment,  whatever  Madame  Delano  may 
have  been,  her  voice  and  mien  were  those  of  a 
virtuous  and  outraged  bourgeoise.  "You  are 
all  very  well,  Ruyler,  but  if  I  had  known  what 
the  life  of  a  rich  young  woman  was  in  this  town, 
IV.  have  married  Helen  e  to  a  serious  young  man 
of  her  own  class  in  Rouen ;  a  husband  who  would 
have  given  her  companionship  in  a  normal  civ 
ilized  life,  who  would  have  taken  care  of  her 
as  every  young  wife  should  be  taken  care  of, 
and  who  would  have  insisted  upon  at  least  two 
children  as  a  matter  of  course.  With  us  The 


THE  AVALANCHE  135 

Family  is  a  religion.  Here  it  is  an  incident 
where  it  is  not  an  accident." 

Ruyler,  who  was  still  standing,  looked  down 
at  his  mother-in-law  with  profound  interest. 
He  had  never  heard  her  express  herself  at  such 
length  before.  "Do  you  think  I  fail  as  a  hus 
band  ? ' '  he  asked  humbly.  '  *  God  knows  I  'd  like 
to  give  my  wife  about  two-thirds  of  my  time, 
but  at  least  I  have  perfect  confidence  in  her.  I 
should  soon  cease  to  care  for  a  wife  I  was  ob 
liged  to  watch." 

"Young  things  are  young  things."  Madame 
Delano  looked  at  Helene,  who  had  turned  very 
white  and  had  lowered  her  own  lids  to  hide  the 
consternation  in  her  eyes.  But  as  her  mother 
ceased  speaking  she  raised  them  in  swift  appeal 
to  Ruyler. 

"Maman  says  I  coquette  too  much,"  she  said 
plaintively,  and  Price  wondered  if  a  slight 
movement  under  the  hem  of  Madame  Delano's 
long  skirts  meant  that  the  toe  of  a  little  gray 
shoe  were  boring  into  one  of  the  massive 
plinths  of  his  mother-in-law.  "But  tell  him, 
maman,  that  you  don't  really  mean  it.  I  can't 
have  Price  jealous.  That  would  be  too  humiliat- 


136  THE  AVALANCHE 

ing.  I'm  afraid  I  do  flirt  as  naturally  as  I 
breathe,  but  Price  knows  I  haven't  a  thought 
for  a  man  on  earth  but  him."  The  color  had 
crept  back  into  her  cheeks,  but  there  was  still 
anxiety  in  her  soft  black  eyes,  and  Price  was 
sure  that  the  little  pointed  toe  once  more  made 
its  peremptory  appeal. 

Madame  Delano  looked  squarely  at  her  son- 
in-law. 

"That's  all  right — so  far,"  she  said  grimly. 
"Helene  is  devoted  to  you.  But  so  have  many 
other  young  wives  been  to  busy  American  hus 
bands.  Now,  take  my  advice,  and  give  her  more 
of  your  companionship  before  it  is  too  late. 
Watch  over  her.  There  always  comes  a  time — 
a  turning-point — European  husbands  under 
stand,  but  American  husbands  are  fools. 
Woman's  loyalty,  fed  on  hope  only,  turns  to  e- 
sentment;  and  then  her  separate  life  begins. 
Now,  I've  warned  you.  Go  back  to  your  office, 
where,  no  doubt,  your  clerks  are  hanging  out  of 
the  windows,  wondering  if  you  are  dead  and  the 
business  wrecked.  I  want  to  talk  to  Helene." 


THE  AVALANCHE  137 

in 

In  spite  of  his  wise  old  French  mother-in- 
law's  insinuations,  Ruyler  felt  lighter  of  heart 
as  he  left  the  hotel  and  walked  toward  his  office 
than  he  had  since  Sunday.  Of  two  things  he 
was  certain:  there  was  no  ngly  understanding 
between  the  mother  and  daughter  over  that  un 
speakable  past,  and  Madame  Delano's  new  at 
titude  toward  her  daughter  was  merely  the  re 
sult  of  an  over-sophisticated  mother's  appre 
hensions  :  those  of  a  woman  who  was  looking  in 
upon  smart  society  for  the  first  time  and  found 
it  alarming,  and — unwelcome,  but  inevitable 
thought — peculiarly  dangerous  to  a  young  and 
beautiful  creature  with  wild  and  lawless  blood 
in  her  veins. 

However,  it  was  patent  that  so  far  her  ap 
prehensions  were  merely  the  result  of  a  rare 
imaginative  flight,  the  result,  no  doubt,  of  her 
own  threatened  exposure.  Once  more  he  ad 
mired  her  courage  in  returning  to  San  Fran 
cisco,  and  as  he  recalled  the  covert  air  of  cyni 
cal  triumph  with  which  she  had  accepted  his 
offer  for  her  daughter's  hand,  he  made  no  doubt 


138  THE  AVALANCHE 

that  one  object  had  been  to  play  a  sardonic  joke 
on  the  city  she  must  hate. 

He  renewed  his  determination  to  keep  what 
guard  he  could  over  his  young  wife,  and  won 
dered  if  his  brother  Harold,  who  also  had 
elected  to  enter  the  old  firm,  could  not  be  in 
duced  to  come  out  and  take  over  a  certain  share 
of  the  responsibility.  The  young  man  had  paid 
him  a  visit  a  year  ago  and  been  enraptured 
with  life  in  California. 

True,  he  was  accustomed  to  make  quick  de 
cisions  without  consulting  any  one,  and  he 
should  find  a  partner  irksome,  but  he  was  be 
ginning  to  realize  acutely  that  business,  even  to 
an  American  brain,  packed  with  its  traditions 
and  energies,  was  not  even  the  half  of  life, 
should  be  a  means  not  an  end ;  he  set  his  teeth 
as  he  walked  rapidly  along  Montgomery  Street 
and  vowed  that  he  would  keep  his  domestic 
happiness  if  he  had  to  retire  on  what  was  avail 
able  of  his  own  fortune.  He  even  wondered  if 
it  would  not  be  wise  to  buy  a  fruit  ranch,  where 
he  and  Helene  could  share  equally  in  the  man 
agement,  and  begin  at  once  to  raise  a  family. 
They  both  loved  outdoor  life,  and  this  life  of 


THE  AVALANCHE  139 

complete  frivolity,  in  which  she  seemed  to  be 
hopelessly  enmeshed,  might  before  long  corrode 
her  nature  and  blast  the  mental  aspirations  that 
still  survived  in  that  untended  soil.  When  this 
great  merging  deal  was  over  he  should  be  free 
to  decide. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


HE  arrived  at  home  on  the  following  after 
noon  at  six  and  was  immediately  rung  up 
by  Spaulding,  who  demanded  an  interview.  It 
was  not  worth  while  going  down  town  again,  as 
Helene  was  out  and  would  no  doubt  return  only 
in  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  They  were  to  dine 
at  half -past  seven  and  go  to  the  play  afterward. 
He  told  Spaulding  to  take  a  taxi  and  come  to 
the  house. 

Nothing  had  occurred  meanwhile  to  cause  him 
anxiety.  He  had  taken  Helene  out  to  the  Cliff 
House  to  dinner  the  night  before,  and  after 
ward  to  see  the  road-houses,  whose  dancing  is 
so  painfully  proper  early  in  the  evening.  Polly 
Roberts  had  come  into  the  most  notorious  of 
them  at  eleven,  chaperoning  a  party,  which  in 
cluded  Aileen  Lawton,  a  girl  as  restless  and 
avid  of  excitement  as  herself.  Rex  Roberts 

and  several  other  young  men  had  been  in  at- 

140 


THE  AVALANCHE  141 

tendance,  and  Polly  had  begged  Ruyler  to  stay 
on  and  let  his  wife  see  something  of  "real 
life." 

' '  This  is  one  of  the  sights  of  the  world,  yon 
know,"  she  said,  puffing  her  cigarette  smoke 
into  his  face.  "It's  too  middle-class  to  be 
shocked,  and  not  to  see  occasionally  what  you 
really  cannot  get  anywhere  else.  Why,  there  11 
even  be  a  lot  of  tourists  here  later  on,  and  these 
dancers  don't  do  the  real  Apache  until  about 
one.  At  least  leave  Helene  with  me,  if  you  care, 
more  for  bed  than  fun." 

But  Ruyler  had  merely  laughed  and  taken  his 
wife  home.  Helene  had  made  no  protest ;  on  the 
contrary  had  put  her  arm  through  his  in  the  car 
and  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  vowing  she  was 
worn  out,  and  glad  to  go  home.  It  was  only 
afterward  that  it  occurred  to  him  that  she  had 
clung  to  him  that  night. 

Spaulding  entered  the  library  without  taking 
off  his  hat,  and  chewing  a  toothpick  vigorously. 
He  began  to  talk  at  once,  stretching  himself  out 
in  a  Morris  chair,  and  accepting  a  cigar.  This 
time  Price  smoked  with  him. 

"Well,"   said  the   detective,   "it's   like   the 


142  THE  AVALANCHE 

game  of  button,  button,  who's  got  the  button! 
Sometimes  I  think  I'm  getting  a  little  warmer 
and  then  I  go  stone  cold.  But  I've  found  out  a 
few  things,  anyhow.  How  tall  should  you  say 
Madame  Delano  is?  I've  only  seen  her  sitting 
on  her  throne  there  in  the  Palace  Court  lookin' 
like  an  old  Sphinx  that's  havin'  a  laugh  all  to 
herself. ' ' 

1  'About  five  feet  ten." 

"The  Mother  Superior  said  six  feet,  but  no 
doubt  when  she  had  figger  instead  of  flesh  she 
looked  taller.  Well,  I've  discovered  no  less 
than  five  tall  handsome  brunettes  that  sparkled 
here  in  the  late  Eighties  and  early  Nineties, 
but  it's  the  deuce  and  all  to  get  an  exact  de 
scription  out  of  anybody,  especially  when  quite 
a  few  years  have  elapsed.  Most  people  don't 
see  details,  only  effects.  That's  what  we  de 
tectives  come  up  against  all  the  time.  So, 
whether  these  ladies  were"  five  feet  eight,  five 
feet  ten,  or  six  feet,  whether  they  had  large  fea 
tures  or  small,  big  hands  and  feet  or  fine  points, 
or  whether  they  added  on  all  the  inches  they 
yearned  for  by  means  of  high  heels  or  style,  is 
beyond  me.  But  here  they  are." 


THE  AVALANCHE  143 

He  took  his  neat  little  note-book  from  his 
pocket  and  was  about  to  read  it,  when  Ruyler 
interrupted  him. 

"But  surely  you  know  whether  these  women 
were  French  or  not?" 

"Aw,  that's  just  what  you  can't  always  find 
out.  Lots  of  'em  pretend  to  be,  and  others — if 
they  come  from  good  stock  in  the  old  country — 
want  you  to  forget  it.  But  the  queens  generally 
run  to  French  names,  as  havin'  a  better  com 
mercial  value  than  Mary  Jane  or  Ann  Maria. 
One  of  these  was  Marie  Garnett,  who  wasn't 
much  on  her  own  but  spun  the  wheel  in  Jim's 
joint  down  on  Barbary  Coast,  which  was  raided 
just  so  often  for  form's  sake.  She  always  made 
a  quick  getaway,  was  never  up  in  court,  and  died 
young.  Gabrielle  ran  an  establishment  down 
on  Geary  Street  and  was  one  of  the  swellest 
lookers  and  swellest  togged  dames  in  her  pro 
fession  till  the  drink  got  her.  I  can't  find  that 
she  ever  hooked  up  to  a  James  or  any  one  else. 
Pauline-Marie  was  another  razzle-dazzle  who 
swooped  out  here  from  nowhere  and  burrowed 
into  quite  a  few  fortunes  and  put  quite  a  few 
of  our  society  leaders  into  mourning.  She  dis- 


144  THE  AVALANCHE 

appeared  and  I  can't  trace  her,  but  she  seems 
to  have  been  the  handsomest  of  the  bunch,  and 
was  fond  of  showing  herself  at  first  nights, 
dressed  straight  from  Paris,  until  some  of  our 
war-hardened  ' leaders'  called  upon  the  man 
agers  in  a  body  and  threatened  never  to  set  foot 
inside  their  doors  again  unless  she  was  kept  out, 
and  the  managers  succumbed.  Then  there  was 
the  friend  of  a  rich  Englishman,  whose  first 
name  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  hold  of.  They 
lived  first  at  Santa  Barbara,  then  loafed  up  and 
down  the  coast  for  a  year  or  two,  spending  quite 
a  time  in  San  Francisco.  She  was  'foreign 
looking'  and  a  stunner,  all  right.  All  of  these 

dames  drifted  out  about  the  same  time " 

"What  was  the  Englishman's  name?" 
"J.  Horace  Medford.  Front  name  may  or 
may  not  have  been  James.  I  doubt  if  his  name 
could  be  found  on  any  deeds,  even  in  the  south, 
where  there  was  no  fire.  He  doesn't  seem  to 
have  bought  any  property  or  transacted  any 
business.  Just  lived  on  a  good-sized  income. 
Of  course,  all  the  hotel  registers  here  were 
burnt,  but  I  wired  to  Santa  Barbara  and  Mon 
terey  and  got  what  I  have  given  you. 


THE  AVALANCHE  145 

' '  He  had  a  yacht,  and  he  took  the  woman  with 
him  everywhere.  There  was  always  a  flutter 
when  they  appeared  at  the  theater.  Of  course 
she  went  by  his  name,  but  as  he  never  presented 
a  letter  all  the  time  he  was  here  and  it  was  quite 
obvious  he  could  have  brought  all  he  wanted, 
and  as  men  are  always  'on'  anyhow,  there  was 
but  one  conclusion." 

" Where  did  he  bank?  They  might  have  his 
full  name." 

"Bank  of  California,  but  his  remittances 
were  sent  to  order  of  J.  Horace  Medford,  and, 
of  course,  he  signed  his  cheques  the  same  way." 

"That  sounds  the  most  likely  of  the  lot 
— and  the  most  hopeful." 

"Weh,  haven't  handed  you  the  fifth  yet,  and 
to  my  mind  she's  the  most  likely  of  all.  Ever 
hear  of  James  Lawton's  trouble  with  his  wife?" 

"Trouble?    I  thought  she  died." 

"She — did — not.  She  went  East  suddenly 
about  fifteen  years  ago,  and  soon  after  a  notice 
of  her  death  appeared  in  the  San  Francisco 
papers.  But  there  was  a  tale  of  woe  (for  old 
Lawton)  that  I  doubt  if  most  of  her  own  crowd 
had  even  a  suspicion  of." 


146  THE  AVALANCHE 

"Good  heavens!"  Ruyler  recalled  the  ap 
parent  intimacy  of  his  mother-in-law  and  the 
senior  member  of  the  respectable  firm  of  Law- 
ton  and  Cross.  If  " Madame  Delano"  were  the 
former  Mrs.  Lawton,  how  many  things  would 
be  explained. 

"This  woman's  name  was  Marie  all  right, 
and  she  was  French,  although  she  seems  to 
have  been  adopted  by  some  people  named  Du- 
bois  and  brought  up  in  California.  She  was 
quite  the  proper  thing  in  high  society,  but  the 
trouble  was  that  she  liked  another  sort  better. 
She  was  a  regular  fly-by-night.  It  began  when 
Norton  Moore,  a  rotten  limb  of  one  of  the 
grandest  trees  in  San  Francisco  Society — so  re 
spectable  they  didn't  know  there  was  any  side 
to  life  but  their  own — sneaked  Mrs.  Lawton 
and  three  girls  out  of  his  mother's  house  one 
night  when  she  was  givin'  a  ball,  put  'em  in  a 
hack  and  took  'em  down  to  Gabrielle's.  There 
they  spent  an  hour  lookin'  at  Gabrielle's  swell 
bunch  dressed  up  and  doin'  the  grand  society 
act  with  some  of  the  men-about-town.  Then 
they  danced  some  and  opened  a  bottle  or  two. 

"I  never  heard  that  this  little  jaunt  hurt  the 


THE  AVALANCHE  147 

girls  any,  but  it  woke  up  something  in  Mrs. 
Lawton.  After  that — well,  there  are  stories 
without  end.  Won't  take  up  your  time  tellin' 
them.  The  upshot  was  that  one  night  Lawton, 
who  took  a  fling  himself  once  in  a  while,  met 
her  at  Gabrielle's  or  some  other  joint,  and  she 
went  East  a  day  or  two  after.  I  suppose  he 
didn't  get  a  divorce,  partly  on  account  of  the 
kid — Aileen — partly  because  he  had  no  inten 
tion  of  trying  his  luck  again." 

"But  is  there  any  evidence  that  she  had  an 
other  child — that  she  hid  away?" 

"No,  but  it  might  easy  have  been.  This  life 
went  on  for  about  eight  years,  and  it  was  at 
least  five  that  she  and  Lawton  merely  lived 
under  the  same  roof  for  the  sake  of  Ailccn 
They  never  did  get  on.  That  much,  at  least, 
was  well  known.  It  might  easy  be 

Ruyler  made  a  rapid  calculation.  Aileen 
Lawton  was  just  about  three  years  older  than 
Helene.  She  was  fair  like  her  father.  There 
was  no  resemblance  between  her  and  his  wife, 
but  the  intimacy  between  them  had  been  spon 
taneous  and  had  never  lapsed.  She  had  grown 
up  quite  unrestrained  and  spoilt,  and  broken 


148  THE  AVALANCHE 

three  engagements,  and  was  always  rushing 
about  proclaiming  in  one  breath  that  California 
was  the  greatest  place  on  earth  and  in  the  next 
that  she  should  go  mad  if  she  didn  't  get  out  and 
have  a  change.  Another  grievance  was  that 
although  her  father  let  her  have  her  own  way, 
or  rather  did  not  pretend  to  control  her,  he  gave 
her  a  rather  niggardly  allowance  for  her  per 
sonal  expenses  and  she  was  supposed  to  be 
heavily  in  debt.  Ruyler  thought  he  could  guess 
where  a  good  deal  of  his  wife's  spare  cash 
had  gone  to.  He  disliked  Aileen  Lawton  as 
much  as  he  did  Polly  Roberts;  more,  if  any 
thing,  because  she  might  have  been  clever  and 
she  chose  to  be  a  fool.  Both  of  these  intimate 
friends  of  his  wife  were  the  reverse  of  the  su 
perb  outdoor  type  he  admired. 

"Good  Lord!"  he  said.  "I  don't  think 
there's  much  choice." 

But  in  a  moment  he  shook  his  head.  "Too 
many  things  don't  connect.  Where  did  she  get 
the  money  to  go  to  her  relations  in  Eouen " 

"He  pensioned  her  off,  of  course." 

"And  the  child?    How  did  he  consent  to  let 


THE  AVALANCHE  149 

her  return  here  with  a  daughter  he  probably 
never  had  heard  of " 


"I  figger  out,  either  that  she  came  into  some 
money  from  a  relation  over  in  France,  or  else 
she  has  something  on  the  old  boy,  and  wanting 
to  come  back  here  and  marry  her  daughter,  she 
held  him  up.  He's  a  pillar  of  the  church,  been 
one  of  the  Presidents  of  the  Pacific-Union 
Club,  has  argued  cases  before  the  Supreme 
Court  that  have  been  cabled  all  over  the  coun 
try.  When  a  man  of  that  sort  gets  to  Law- 
ton's  time  of  life  he  don't  want  any  scandals." 

"All  the  same,"  said  Ruyler  positively,  "I 
don't  .believe  it.  I  think  it  far  more  likely  that 
he  was  a  friend  of  Madame  Delano's  husband 
— assuming  that  she  had  one — and  that  some 
money  was  left  with  him  in  trust  for  her  or  the 
child." 

"Well,  it  may  be,  but  I  incline  to  Law- 
ton " 

"There's  one  person  would  know " 

"  'Gene  Bisbee.  But  I  never  went  to  that 
bunch  yet  for  any  information,  and  I  don't  go 
this  time  except  as  a  last  resort.  Of  course  he 
knows,  and  that  is  one  reason  I  believe  she  is 


150  THE  AVALANCHE 

Mrs.  Lawton.  He  was  Gabrielle's  maquereau 
for  years — when  lie  'd  wrung  enough  out  of  her 
he  set  up  for  himself — Well,  I  ain't  through  yet, 
by  a  long  sight.  Beliefs  ain't  proof."  He  rose 
slowly  from  the  deep  chair,  stretched  himself, 
and  settled  his  hat  firmly  on  his  head. 

"  What's  this  I  hear  about  a  wonderful  ruby 
your  wife  wore  up  to  Gwynne's  the  other 
night?  Gosh!  I'd  like  to  see  a  sparkler  like 
that." 

"Why,  by  all  means." 

Ruyler  swung  the  bookcase  outward,  opened 
the  safe  and  handed  him  the  ruby.  Spaulding 
regarded  it  with  bulging  eyes,  and  touched  it 
with  his  finger  tips  much  as  he  would  a  new 
born  babe.  "Some  stone!"  he  said,  as  he 
handed  it  back,  "but  why  in  thunder  don't  you 
keep  it  in  a  safe  deposit  box?  There  are  crooks 
that  can  crack  any  safe,  and  if  they  got  wise  to 
this — oh,  howdy,  ma'am " 

Helene  had  come  in  and  stood  behind  the  two 
men. 

Spaulding  snatched  off  his  hat  and  she 
acknowledged  her  husband's  introduction  gra 
ciously.  She  was  dressed  for  the  evening  in 


THE  AVALANCHE  151 

white.  Her  eyes  looked  abnormally  large,  and 
she  kept  dropping  her  lids  as  if  to  keep  them 
from  setting  in  a  stare.  Her  lovely  mouth  with 
its  soft  curves  was  faded  and  set.  The  whole 
face  was  almost  as  stiff  as  a  mask,  and  even  her 
graceful  body  was  rigid.  Ruyler  saw  Spaulding 
give  her  a  sharp  "sizing-up"  look,  as  he  mur 
mured, 

''Well,  so  long,  Guv.  See  you  to-morrow. 
Hope  the  man '11  turn  out  all  right  after  all." 

"I  hope  so.    He's  a  good  chap  otherwise." 

"Good  night,  ma'am.  Tell  your  husband  to 
put  that  ruby  in  a  safe  deposit  box." 

"Oh,  nobody  knows  the  safe  is  there  except 
Mr.  Ruyler  and  myself " 

"There  have  been  safes  hidden  behind  book 
cases  before,"  said  Spaulding  dryly.  "And 
crooks,  like  all  the  other  pests  of  the  earth,  just 
drift  naturally  to  this  coast.  If  I  were  you  I'd 
have  a  detective  on  hand  whenever  you  wear 
that  bit  o'  glass — not  at  a  friendly  affair  like 
the  Gwynnes'  dinner,  of  course,  but " 

"Good  idea!"  exclaimed  Ruyler.  "My  wife 
will  wear  the  ruby  to  the  Thornton  fete  on  the 
fourteenth.  Will  you  be  on  hand  to  guard  it?" 


152  THE  AVALANCHE 

11  Won't  I?  About  half  our  force  is  engaged 
for  that  blow-out,  but  no  one  but  yours  truly 
shall  be  guardian  angel  for  the  ruby.  Well, 
good  night  once  more,  and  good  luck." 


As  soon  as  the  detective  had  gone  Ruyler 
drew  his  wife  to  him  anxiously.  ''What  is  it, 
Helene?  You  look — well,  you  don't  look  your 
self!" 

"I  have  a  headache,"  she  said  irritably. 
"Perhaps  I'm  developing  nerves.  I  do  wish 
you  would  take  me  to  New  York.  Other  women 
get  away  from  this  town  once  in  a  while." 

"But  you  told  me  on  Sunday  that  you  adored 
California,  that  it  was  like  fairy  land " 

' '  Oh,  all  the  women  out  here  bluff  themselves 
and  everybody  else  just  so  long  and  then  sud 
denly  go  to  pieces.  It's  a  wonderful  state,  but 
what  a  life !  What  a  life !  Surely  I  was  made 
for  something  better.  I  don't  wonder " 

"What?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"Oh,  nothing.  I  feel  ungrateful,  of  course. 
I  really  should  be  quite  happy.  Think  if  I  had 
to  go  back  to  Rouen  to  live — after  this  taste  of 


THE  AVALANCHE  153 

freedom,  and  beauty — for  California  has  all  the 
beauties  of  youth  as  well  as  its  idiocies  and 
vices " 

"  There  is  not  the  remotest  danger  of  your 
ever  being  obliged  to  live  in  Rouen  again— 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  You  might  get  tired  of 
me.  We  might  fight  like  cat  and  dog  for  want 
of  common  interests,  of  something  to  talk  about. 
You  would  never  take  to  drink  like  so  many  of 
the  men,  but  I  might — well,  I'm  glad  dinner  is 
ready  at  last." 

But  she  played  with  her  food.  That  she  was 
repressing  an  intense  and  mounting  excitement 
Euyler  did  not  doubt,  and  he  also  suspected  that 
she  wished  to  broach  some  particular  subject 
from  which  she  turned  in  panic.  They  were 
alone  after  coffee  had  been  served,  and  he  said 
abruptly : 

"What  is  it,  Helene?  Do  you  want  money? 
I  have  an  idea  that  Polly  Roberts  and  Aileen 
Lawton  borrow  heavily  from  you,  and  that  they 
may  have  cleaned  you  out  completely  on  the 
first » 

"How  dear  of  you  to  guess — or  rather  to  get 
so  close.  It's  worse  than  that.  I — that  is — • 


154  THE  AVALANCHE 

well — poor  Polly  went  quite  mad  over  a  pearl 
necklace  at  Shreve's  and  they  told  her  to  take 
it  and  wear  it  for  a  few  days,  thinking,  I  sup 
pose,  she  would  never  give  it  up  and  would  get 
the  money  somehow.  She — oh,  it's  too  dreadful 
— she  lost  it — and  she  dares  not  tell  Rex — he's 
lost  quite  a  lot  of  money  lately — and  she 's  mad 
with  fright — and  I  told  her " 

"Where  did  she  lose  it?  It's  not  easy  to  lose 
a  necklace,  especially  when  the  clasp  is  new." 

"She  thinks  it  was  stolen  from  her  neck  at 
the  theater — you  heard  what  that  man  said. ' ' 

"Ah!    What  was  the  price  of  the  necklace!" 

"Twenty  thousand  dollars.  The  pearls 
weren't  so  very  large,  of  course,  but  Polly  never 
had  had  a  pearl  necklace " 

"I'll  let  her  have  the  money  to  pay  for  it  on 
one  condition — that  it  is  a  transaction  between 
Roberts  and  myself " 

"No!    No!    Not  for  any  thing!" 

"I've  lent  him  money  before " 


' '  But  he  'd  never  forgive  Polly.  He — he 's  one 
of  those  men  who  make  an  awful  fuss  on  the 
first  of  every  month  when  his  wife's  bills  come 
in." 


THE  AVALANCHE  155 

11  There  must  be  a  bass  chorus  on  the  first  of 
every  month  in  San  Francisco " 

"Oh,  please  don't  jest.  She  must  have  this 
money." 

"She  may  have  it — on  those  terms.  I'll  have 
no  business  dealings  with  women  of  the  Polly 
Roberts  sort.  That  would  be  the  last  I'd  ever 
see  of  the  twenty  thousand " 

*  *  I  never  thought  you  were  stingy ! ' ' 

Ruyler,  in  spite  of  his  tearing  anxiety, 
laughed  outright.  "Is  that  your  idea  of  how 
the  indulgent  American  husband  becomes 
rich?" 

"Oh — of  course  I  wouldn't  have  you  lose 
such  a  sum.  I  really  have  learned  the  value  of 
money  in  the  abstract,  although  I  can 't  care  for 
it  as  much  as  men  do." 

' '  I  have  no  great  love  of  money,  but  there  is 
a  certain  difference  between  a  miser  and  a  level 
headed  business  man ' 

"Price,  I  must  have  that  money.  Polly — 
oh,  I  am  afraid  she  will  kill  herself!" 

"Not  she.  A  more  selfish  little  beast  never 
breathed.  She  '11  squeeze  the  money  out  of  some 


156  THE  AVALANCHE 

one,  never  fear!    But  I  think  I'll  lock  up  your 
jewels  in  case  you  are  tempted  to  raise  money 
on  them  for  her — Darling!" 
Helene,  without  a  sound,  had  fainted. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THEY  had  intended  to  go  to  the  theater  but 
Ruyler  put  her  to  bed  at  once.  He  of 
fered  to  read  to  her,  but  she  turned  her  back  on 
him  with  cold  disdain,  and  he  went  to  the  little 
invisible  cupboard  where  she  kept  her  own 
jewels  and  took  out  the  heavy  gold  box  which 
had  been  the  wedding  present  of  one  of  his 
California  business  friends  who  owned  a  quartz 
mine. 

"I  shall  put  this  in  the  safe,"  he  said  in 
cisively,  "for,  while  I  admire  your  stanchness 
in  friendship,  even  for  such  an  unworthy  ob 
ject  as  Polly  Roberts,  I  do  not  propose  that  my 
wife  shall  be  selling  or  pawning  her  jewels  for 
any  reason  whatever.  Think  over  the  proposal 
I  made  downstairs.  If  Polly  is  willing  I'll  lend 
Roberts  the  money  to-morrow." 

She  had  thrown  an  arm  over  her  face  and 
she  made  no  reply.  He  went  down  stairs  and 

157 


158  THE  AVALANCHE 

put  the  box  in  the  safe.  It  occurred  to  him 
that  she  had  watched  him  open  and  close  the 
safe  several  times  but  she  certainly  never  had 
written  the  combination  down,  and  it  had  taken 
him  a  long  while  to  commit  it  to  memory  him 
self. 

He  had  glanced  over  the  contents  of  the  box 
before  he  locked  it  in.  The  jewels  were  all 
there,  the  string  of  pearls  that  he  had  given 
her  on  their  marriage  day,  a  few  wedding  pres 
ents,  and  several  rings  and  trinkets  he  had 
bought  for  her  since.  The  value  was  perhaps 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  for  he  had  told  her 
that  she  must  wait  several  years  before  he  could 
give  her  the  jewels  of  a  great  lady.  When  she 
was  thirty,  and  really  needed  them  to  make  up 
for  fading  charms — it  had  been  one  of  their 
pleasant  little  jokes. 

As  Ruyler  set  the  combination  he  sighed  and 
wondered  whether  their  days  of  joking  were 
over.  Their  life  had  suddenly  shot  out  of  focus 
and  it  would  require  all  his  ingenuity  and  pa 
tience,  aided  by  friendly  circumstance,  to  swing 
it  into  line  again.  He  did  not  believe  a  word  of 
the  necklace  story.  Somebody  was  blackmail- 


THE  AVALANCHE  159 

ing  the  poor  child.  If  he  could  only  find  out 
who!  He  made  up  his  mind  suddenly  to  put 
this  problem  also  in  the  hands  of  Spaulding  for 
solution.  The  question  of  his  mother-in-law's 
antecedents  was  important  enough,  but  that  of 
his  wife's  happiness  and  his  own  was  para 
mount. 

He  decided  to  go  to  the  theater  himself,  for 
he  was  in  no  condition  for  sleep  or  the  society 
of  men  at  the  club,  nor  could  any  book  hold  his 
attention.  He  prayed  that  the  play  would  be 
reasonably  diverting. 

He  walked  down  town  and  as  he  entered  the 
lobby  of  the  Columbia  at  the  close  of  the  first 
act  he  saw  'Gene  Bisbee  and  D.  V.  Bimmer, 
who  was  now  managing  a  hotel  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  standing  together.  He  also  saw  Bisbee 
nudge  Bimmer,  and  they  both  stared  at  him 
openly,  the  famous  hotel  man  with  some  sym 
pathy  in  his  wise  secretive  eyes,  the  reformed 
peer  of  the  underworld  with  a  certain  specula 
tive  contempt. 

Ruyler,  to  his  intense  irritation,  felt  himself 
flushing,  and  wondered  if  the  man's  regard 
might  be  translated :  ' '  Just  how  much  shall  I 


160  THE  AVALANCHE 

be  able  to  touch  him  for?"  He  wished  he  would 
show  his  hand  and  dissipate  the  damnable  web 
of  mystery  which  Fate  seemed  weaving  hourly 
out  of  her  bloated  pouch,  but  he  doubted  if  Bis- 
bee,  or  whoever  it  was  that  tormented  his  wife, 
would  approach  him  save  as  a  last  resource. 
They  were  clever  enough  to  know  that  her  keen 
est  desire  would  be  to  keep  the  disgraceful  past 
from  the  knowledge  of  her  husband,  rather  than 
from  a  society  seasoned  these  many  years  to 
erubescent  pasts. 

Moreover  it  is  always  easier  to  blackmail  a 
woman  than  a  man,  and  Price  Kuyler  could  not 
have  looked  an  easy  mark  to  the  most  optimistic 
of  social  brigands. 

He  found  it  impossible  to  fix  his  mind  on  the 
play;  the  cues  of  the  first  act  eluded  him,  and 
the  characters  and  dialogue  were  too  common 
place  to  make  the  story  negligible. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  act  Euyler  made  up 
his  mind  to  go  home  and  try  to  coax  his  wife 
back  into  her  customary  good  temper,  pet  her 
and  make  her  forget  her  little  tragedy.  He  still 
hesitated  to  broach  the  subject  to  her  directly, 
but  it  was  possible  that  by  some  diplomatically 


THE  AVALANCHE  161 

analogous  tale  he  could  surprise  her  into  telling 
him  the  truth. 

During  the  long  drive  he  turned  over  in  his 
mind  the  data  Spaulding  had  placed  before  him 
during  the  afternoon.  He  rejected  the  theory 
that  Madame  Delano  was  Mrs.  Lawton  as  ut 
terly  fantastic,  but  admitted  a  connection. 
Helene  had  spoken  more  than  once  of  Mrs.  Law- 
ton's  kindness  to  "maman"  when  her  baby  was 
born  during  her  "  enforced  stay  in  San  Fran 
cisco,"  and  it  was  quite  possible  that  the  two 
had  been  friends,  and  that  the  young  mother 
had  adopted  the  name  of  Dubois  when  calling 
upon  the  nuns  of  the  convent  at  St.  Peter,  either 
because  it  would  naturally  occur  to  her,  or 
from  some  deeper  design  which  he  could  not 
fathom.  .  .  . 

Yes,  the  connection  with  Mrs.  Lawton  was 
indisputable  and  it  remained  for  him  to  "figger 
out"  as  Spaulding  would  say,  which  of  these 
women,  the  gambler's  wife,  the  notorious 
11  Madam,"  Gabrielle,  the  briefly  coruscating 
Pauline  Marie,  or  the  Englishman's  mistress,  a 
woman  of  Mrs.  Lawton's  position  would  be  most 
likely  to  befriend. 


162  THE  AVALANCHE 

The  first  three  might  be  dismissed  without 
argument.  She  had  been  no  frequenter  of 
"gambling  joints"  whatever  her  peccadilloes; 
Gabrielle,  he  happened  to  know,  had  died  some 
eight  or  ten  years  ago,  and  Mademoiselle  Paul 
ine  Marie,  if  she  had  had  a  child,  which  was 
extremely  doubtful,  was  the  sort  that  sends 
unwelcome  offspring  post  haste  to  the  foundling 
asylum. 

There  remained  only  the  spurious  Mrs.  Med- 
ford,  and  she  was  the  probability  on  all  counts. 
"What  more  likely  than  that  she  and  Mrs.  Law- 
ton  had  met  at  one  of  the  great  winter  hotels 
in  Southern  California,  and  foregathered? 
Certainly  they  would  be  congenial  spirits. 

When  the  baby  came  Mrs.  Lawton  would 
naturally  see  her  through  her  trouble,  and  ad 
vise  her  later  what  to  do  with  the  child.  No 
doubt,  Medford  found  it  in  the  way. 

After  that  Kuyler  could  only  fumble.  Did 
Medford  desert  the  woman,  driving  her  on  the 
stage? — or  elsewhere?  Did  they  start  for 
Japan,  and  did  he  die  on  the  voyage?  Did  he 
merely  give  the  woman  a  pension  and  tell  her  to 
go  back  to  Rouen,  or  to  the  devil  ?  It  was  posi- 


THE  AVALANCHE  163 

five  that  when  Helene  was  five  years  old 
Madame  Delano  had  gone  back  to  her  relatives 
with  some  trumped  up  story  and  been  received 
by  them. 

Moreover,  this  theory  coincided  with  his 
belief  that  Helene 's  father  was  a  gentleman. 
No  doubt  he  had  been  already  married  when  he 
met  the  young  French  girl,  superbly  handsome, 
and  intelligent — possibly  at  one  of  the  French 
watering  places,  even  in  Rouen  itself,  swarming 
with  tourists  in  Summer.  They  might  have  met 
in  the  spacious  aisles  of  the  Cathedral,  she  risen 
from  her  prayers,  he  wandering  about,  Bae 
deker  in  hand,  and  fallen  in  love  at  sight.  One 
of  Earth's  million  romances,  regenerating  the 
aged  planet  for  a  moment,  only  to  sink  back 
and  disappear  into  her  forgotten  dust. 

His  own  romance?  What  was  to  be  the  end 
of  that! 

But  he  returned  to  his  argument.  He  wanted 
a  coherent  story  to  tell  his  wife,  and  he  wanted 
also  to  believe  that  his  wife's  father  had  been 
a  gentleman. 

Mcdford,  like  so  many  of  his  eloping  kind, 
had  made  instinctively  for  California  with  the 


164  THE  AVALANCHE 

beautiful  woman  he  loved  but  could  not  marry. 
Santa  Barbara,  Ruyler  had  heard,  had  been 
the  favorite  haven  for  two  generations  of 
couples  fleeing  from  irking  bonds  in  the  so 
cieties  of  England  and  the  continent  of  Europe. 
Southern  California  combined  a  wild  independ 
ence  with  a  languor  that  blunted  too  sensitive 
nerves,  offered  an  equable  climate  with  months 
on  end  of  out  of  door  life,  boating,  shooting, 
riding,  driving,  motoring,  romantic  excursions, 
and  even  sport  if  a  distinguished  looking  couple 
played  the  game  well  and  told  a  plausible 
story. 

Breeding  was  a  part  of  Euyler's  religion,  as 
component  in  his  code  as  honor,  patriotism, 
loyalty,  or  the  obligation  of  the  strong  to  pro 
tect  the  weak.  Far  better  the  bend  sinister  in 
his  own  class  than  a  legitimate  parent  of  the 
type  of  'Gene  Bisbee  or  D.  V.  Bimmer.  Euyler 
was  a  "good  mixer"  when  business  required 
that  particular  form  of  diplomacy,  and  the  fa 
miliarities  of  Jake  Spaulding  left  his  nerves  un 
scathed,  but  in  bone  and  brain  cells  he  was  of 
the  intensely  respectable  aristocracy  of  Man 
hattan  Island  and  he  never  forgot  it.  He  had 


THE  AVALANCHE  165 

surrendered  to  a  girl  of  no  position  without 
a  struggle,  and  made  her  his  wife,  but  it  is 
doubtful  if  he  would  even  have  fallen  in  love 
with  her  if  she  had  been  underbred  in  appear 
ance  or  manner.  He  had  never  regretted  his 
marriage  for  a  moment,  not  even  since  this 
avalanche  of  mystery  and  portending  scandal 
had  descended  upon  him;  if  possible  he  loved 
his  troubled  young  wife  more  than  ever — with 
a  sudden  instinct  that  worse  was  to  come  he 
vowed  that  nothing  should  ever  make  him  love 
her  less. 

When  he  arrived  at  his  house  he  found  two 
notes  on  the  hall  table  addressed  to  himself. 
The  first  was  from  Helene  and  read: 

"Polly  telephoned  that  she  would  send  her 
car  for  me  to  go  down  to  the  Fairmont  and 
dance.  I  cannot  sleep  so  I  am  going.  She  can 
not  sleep  either!  Forgive  me  if  I  was  cross, 
but  I  am  terribly  worried  for  her.  Don't  wait 
up  for  me.  Helene.7' 

He  read  this  note  with  a  frown  but  without 
surprise.  It  was  to  be  expected  that  she  would 
seek  excitement  until  her  present  fears  were 
aflayecf  and  her  persecutors  silenced. 


i66  THE  AVALANCHE 

He  determined  to  order  Spaulding  to  have 
her  shadowed  constantly  for  at  least  a  fort 
night  and  note  made  of  every  person  in  whose 
company  she  appeared  to  be  at  all  uneasy, 
whether  they  were  of  her  own  set  or  not.  It 
would  also  be  worth  while  to  have  Madame  De 
lano's  rooms  watched,  for  it  was  possible  that 
she  wrould  summon  Helene  there  to  meet  Bisbee 
or  others  of  his  ilk. 

Then  he  picked  up  the  other  note.  It  was 
from  Spaulding,  and  as  he  read  it  all  his  fine 
spun  theories  vanished  and  once  more  he  was 
adrift  on  an  uncharted  sea  without  a  land 
mark  in  sight. 

''Dear  Sir,"  began  the  detective,  who  was 
always  formal  on  paper.  "I've  just  got  the 
information  required  from  Holbrook  Centre. 
"We  didn't  half  believe  there  was  such  a  place, 
if  you  remember?  Well  there  is,  and  accord 
ing  to  the  parish  register  Marie  Jeanne  Perrin 
was  married  to  James  Delano  on  July  25th, 
1891.  She  was  there,  visiting  some  French  re 
lations — they  went  back  soon  after — and  he 
had  left  there  when  he  was  about  sixteen  and 
had  only  come  back  that  once  to  see  his  mother, 


THE  AVALANCHE  167 

who  was  dying.  Nothing  seems  to  have  been 
known  about  him  in  his  home  town  except  a 
sort  of  rumor  that  he  was  a  bad  lot  and  lived 
somewheres  in  California.  Can  you  beat  it? 
But  don't  think  I'm  stumped.  I'm  working  on 
a  new  line  and  I'm  not  going  to  say  another 
word  until  I've  got  somewheres. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"J.  SPAULDING." 

" Delano's  father  was  a  Forty-niner,  and 
lived  in  California  till  1860,  when  he  went  home 
to  H.  C.  and  died  soon  after.  There  were  wild 
stories  about  him,  too." 


CHAPTER  X 


DURING  the  next  few  days  Ruyler  saw  lit 
tle  of  his  wife.  He  was  obliged  to  take 
two  business  trips  out  of  town  and  as  he  could 
not  return  until  ten  o'clock  at  night  he  advised 
her  to  have  company  to  dinner  and  take  her 
guests  to  the  play.  But  she  preferred  to  dine 
with  Polly  Roberts  and  Aileen  Lawton,  and 
she  spent  her  days  for  the  most  part  at  Bur- 
lingame,  motoring  down  with  one  or  more  of 
her  friends,  or  sent  for  by  some  enthusiastic 
girl  admirer  already  established  there  for  the 
summer. 

Ruyler  was  quite  willing  to  forego  tempo 
rarily  his  plan  of  personal  guardianship,  as  the 
more  she  roamed  abroad  unattended  the  better 
could  Spaulding  watch  her  associates.  The  de 
tective  had  his  agents  in  society,  as  well  as  in 
the  Palace  Hotel,  and  on  the  third  day  he  sent 

a  brief  note  to  Ruyler  announcing  that  he  had 

168 


THE  AVALANCHE  169 

''lit  on  to  something"  that  would  make  his  em 
ployer's  "hair  curl,  but  no  more  at  present 
from  yours  truly." 

"This  time,"  he  added,  "I'm  on  the  right 
track  and  know  it.  No  more  fancy  theories. 
But  I  won't  say  a  word  till  I  can  deliver  the 
goods.  Give  your  wife  all  the  rope  you  can." 

Price  and  Helene  met  briefly  and  amiably  and 
she  did  not  again  broach  the  subject  of  the  loan 
for  her  friend,  nor  did  she  ask  for  her  jewels. 
It  was  apparent  that  she  was  proudly  deter 
mined  to  conceal  whatever  terrors  or  even  wor 
ries  that  might  haunt  her,  but  the  effort  de 
prived  her  of  all  her  native  vivacity;  she  was 
almost  formal  in  manner  and  her  white  face 
grew  more  like  a  classic  mask  daily. 

On  the  evening  before  the  Thornton  fete, 
however,  Price  was  able  to  dine  at  home.  They 
met  at  table  and  he  saw'  at  once  that  she  either 
had  recovered  her  spirits  or  was  making  a  de 
liberate  attempt  to  create  the  impression  of  a 
carefree  young  woman  happy  in  a  tete-a-tete 
dinner  with  a  busy  husband. 

Her  talk  for  the  most  part  was  of  the  great 
entertainment  at  San  Mateo.  The  weather 


iyo  THE  AVALANCHE 

promised  to  be  simply  magnificent.  Wasn't 
that  exactly  like  Flora  Thornton's  luck?  The 
immense  grounds  were  simply  swarming  with 
workmen;  wagon-loads  of  all  sorts  of  things 
went  through  the  gates  after  every  train — sim 
ply  one  procession  after  another;  but  no  one 
else  could  so  much  as  get  her  nose  through  those 
gates. 

Helene,  with  all  her  old  childish  glee,  related 
how  she  and  Aileen,  Polly  (who  apparently  had 
forgotten  her  impending  doom),  and  two  or 
three  other  girls,  had  called  up  Mrs.  Thornton 
on  the  telephone  every  ten  minutes  for  an  hour 
— pretending  it  was  long  distance  to  make  sure 
of  a  personal  response — and  begged  to  be  al-, 
lowed  to  go  over  and  see  the  preparations,  un 
til  finally,  in  a  towering  rage,  her  ladyship  had 
replied  that  if  they  called  her  again  she  would 
withdraw  her  invitations. 

"How  we  did  long  for  an  airship.  It  would 
have  been  such  fun,  for  she  does  so  disapprove 
of  all  of  us ;  thinks  us  a  little  flock  of  silly  geese. 
"Well,  we  are,  I  guess,  but  wasn't  she  one  her 
self  once?  She  has  a  pretty  hard  time  even 


THE  AVALANCHE  171 

now  making  life  interesting  for  herself — out 
here,  anyhow. 

"Yesterday  we  motored  down  to  Menlo  and 
dropped  in  at  the  Maynards.  There  were  a  lot 
of  the  props  of  San  Francisco  society,  all  as 
rich  as  croesus,  sitting  on  the  veranda  crochet 
ing  socks  or  sacks  for  a  crop  of  new  babies  that 
are  due.  One  or  two  were  hemstitching  lawn, 
or  embroidering  a  monogram,  or  something  else 
equally  useless  or  virtuous.  They  were  talking 
mild  gossip,  and  didn't  even  have  powder  on. 
It  was  ghastly " 

"Helene,"  said  Ruyler  abruptly,  "what  do 
you  think  is  the  secret  of  happiness — I  mean, 
of  course,  the  enduring  sort — perhaps  content 
would  be  the  better  word.  Happiness  is  too  de 
pendent  upon  love,  and  love  was  never  meant 
for  daily  food.  You  are  not  by  nature  frivo 
lous,  and  you  are  capable  of  thought.  Have 
you  ever  given  any  to  the  secret  of  content  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  work,"  she  answered  promptly.  "Ev 
erybody  should  have  his  daily  job,  prescribed 
either  by  the  state  or  by  necessity;  but  some 
thing  he  must  do  if  both  he  and  society  would 
continue  to  exist.'* 


172  THE  AVALANCHE 

Ruyler  elevated  his  eyebrows  and  looked  at 
her  curiously.  "Socialism.  I  didn't  know  you 
had  ever  heard  of  it." 

"Aileen  and  I  are  not  such  fools  as  we  look 
— as  you  were  good  enough  to  intimate  just 
now.  We  went  to  a  series  of  lectures  early  last 
winter  over  at  the  University,  on  Socialism — 
a  lot  of  us  formed  a  class,  but  all  except  Aileen 
and  I  dropped  out. 

"We  continued  to  read  for  a  time  after  the 
lectures  were  over,  but  of  course  that  didn't 
last.  One  drops  everything  for  want  of  stimu 
lus,  and  when  one  begins  to  flutter  again  one  is 
lost. 

"But  I  heard  and  read  and  thought  enough 
to  deduce  that  the  only  vital  interest  in  life 
after  one's  secret  happiness — which  one  would 
not  dare  spread  out  too  thin  if  one  could  in  this 
American  life — is  necessary  work  well  done. 
And  that  is  quite  different  from  those  fussy  in 
terests  and  fads  we  create  or  take  up  for  the 
sake  of  thinking  we  are  busy  and  interested. 

"Polly's  mother  once  told  me  she  never  was 
so  happy  in  her  life  as  during  those  weeks  after 
the  earthquake  and  fire  when  all  the  servants 


THE  AVALANCHE  173 

had  run  away  and  she  had  to  cook  for  the  fam 
ily  out  in  the  street  on  a  stove  they  bought 
down  in  a  little  shop  in  Polk  Street  and  set  up 
and  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  'inside 
blinds.'  She  happened  to  have  a  talent  for 
cooking,  and  without  her  the  family  would  have 
starved.  Polly  tied  a  towel  round  her  head  and 
did  the  housework,  or  stood  in  a  line  and  got 
the  daily  rations  from  the  Government.  She 
never  thought  once  of 

"Of  what?" 

"Oh,  of  doing  anything  rather  than  expire 
of  boredom.  She  and  Rex  had  been  married  a 
year  and  were  living  at  home.  Rex  and  Mr. 
Carter  helped  excavate  down  in  the  business 
district,  as  the  working  class  wouldn't  lift  a  fin 
ger  as  long  as  the  Government  was  feeding 
them." 

"There  you  are!  Their  ideal  is  complete 
leisure,  and  that  of  our  delicate  products  of  the 
highest  civilization — compulsory  jobs!  AVliat 
does  progress  mean  but  the  leisure  to  enjoy  the 
arts  and  all  the  finer  fruits  of  progress?  ^Tiat 
else  do  we  men  really  work  fort" 

"Progress  has  gone  too  far  and  defeated  its 


174  THE  AVALANCHE 

own  ends.  Every  healthy  human  being  should 
be  forced  to  work  six  hours  a  day. 

"That  would  leave  eight  for  sleep  and  ten 
for  enjoyment  of  the  arts  and  luxuries.  Then 
we  really  should  enjoy  them,  and  if  we  couldn't 
have  them  unless  we  did  our  six  hours'  stint, 
ennui  and  the  dissipations  that  it  breeds  would 
be  unknown. 

"I  can  tell  you  it  is  demoralizing,  disinte 
grating,  to  wake  up  morning  after  morning — 
about  ten  o'clock! — and  know  that  you  have 
nothing  worth  while  to  do  for  another  day — 
for  all  the  days ! — that  you  have  no  place  in  the 
world  except  as  an  ornament!  Women  of  lim 
ited  incomes  and  a  family  of  growing  children 
have  enough  to  do,  of  course — too  much — they 
never  can  feel  superfluous  and  demoralized — 
except  by  envy — but  as  for  us !  Why,  I  can  tell 
you,  it  is  a  marvel  we  don't  all  go  straight  to 
the  devil." 

They  were  alone  with  the  coffee,  and  she  was 
pounding  the  table  with  her  little  fist.  Her 
cheeks  were  deeply  flushed  and  her  black  som 
ber  eyes  were  opening  and  closing  rapidly,  as 


THE  AVALANCHE  175 

if  alternately  magnetized  by  some  ugly  vision 
and  sweeping  it  aside. 

Price  watched  her  with  deep  interest  and 
deeper  anxiety.  "A  good  many  women  go  to 
the  devil,"  he  said.  "But  you  are  not  that 
sort." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  never  could  get  up 
enough  interest  in  another  man  to  solve  the 
problem  in  the  usual  way — but  there  are  other 
resources — I — well ' ' 


. . 


'What?"    Price  sat  up  very  straight. 

"Oh,  dance  ourselves  into  tuberculosis,"  she 
said  lightly,  and  dropping  her  eyelashes.  "And 
tuberculosis  of  the  mind,  certainly.  On  the 
whole,  I  think  I  prefer  physical  to  spiritual 
death.  .  .  . 

"However — I  found  out  one  thing  to-day. 
The  dancing  is  to  be  out  of  doors.  There  will 
be  an  immense  arbor  or  something  of  the  sort 
erected  on  the  lawn  above  the  sunken  garden. 
My  gown  is  a  dream  and  I  shall  wear  the  ruby. ' ' 

"Yes,"  he  said  smiling.  "You  shall  wear 
the  ruby.  But  you  must  expect  me  to  keep  very 
close  to  you " 

"The  closer  the  better."    She  smiled  charm- 


176  THE  AVALANCHE 

ingly.     "Have  you  tried  on  your  costume?" 
"I  haven't  even  looked  at  it.    Who  am  I?" 
"Caesar  Borgia.    You  are  not  much  like  him 
yourself,  darling,  but  I  thought  he  was  not  so 
very  unlike  modern  American  business,  as  a 
whole. ' ' 

Euyler  laughed.  "Why  not  Machiavellif 
But  as  no  doubt  it  is  black  velvet,  much  puffed 
and  slashed,  I  may  hope  it  will  be  becoming  to 
my  nondescript  fairness.  You  must  promise  not 
to  wander  off  for  long  walks  with  any  of  your 
admirers.  Not  that  I  fear  the  admirers,  but 
the  thieves  that  are  bound  to  get  into  that 
crowd  one  way  or  another.  They  have  a  way 
of  unclasping  necklaces  even  of  the  most  cir 
cumspect  wives  in  the  company  of  not  too  ab 
sorbing  men." 

Her  eyes  opened  and  flashed,  but  he  had  no 
time  to  analyze  that  fleeting  expression  before 
she  was  promising  volubly  not  to  wander  from 
the  illuminated  st>aces. 

n 

He  interrupted  her  suddenly.  They  were  in 
the  library  now,  and  sat  down  on  a  little  sofa 


THE  AVALANCHE  177 

in  front  of  the  window.  The  moon  was  high 
and  brilliant  and  the  great  expanse  of  water 
with  the  high  clusters  of  lights  on  the  islands, 
the  sharp  hard  silhouette  of  the  encircling 
mountains,  the  green  and  silver  stars  so  high 
above,  the  moving  golden  dots  of  an  incoming 
liner  from  Japan,  the  long  rows  of  arc  lights 
along  the  shore,  made  a  landscape  of  the  night 
that  Mrs.  Thornton  with  all  her  millions  hardly 
could  rival. 

"Are  you  not  grateful  for  this?"  he  asked 
whimsically  and  a  little  wistfully. 

"Oh,  Price,  dear,  I  am  more  grateful  than 
you  will  ever  know.  I  have  not  a  fault  on  earth 
to  find  with  you.  You  would  be  the  prince  of  the 
fairy  tale  if  you  were  not  so  busy. 

"But  that  is  the  tragedy.  You  are  busy — 
I  am  not. ' ' 

"Well,  let  us  have  the  personal  solution- 
one  that  fits  ourselves.  You  have  time  to  think 
it  out.  I,  alas!  have  not."  He  took  her  hand 
and  fondled  it,  hoping  for  her  confidence. 

"I  don't  know."  She  had  a  deep  rich  voice 
and  she  could  make  it  very  intense.  "I  only 
know  there  must — must — be  a  change — if — if — 


178  THE  AVALANCHE 

I  am  to Can't  you  take  me  abroad  for  a 

year?  That  might  not  be  work,  but  at  least  I 
should  be  learning  something — I  have  traveled 
almost  not  at  all — and,  at  least,  I  should  have 
you. ' ' 

' '  But  later  ?  Most  of  your  friends  have  spent 
a  good  deal  of  time  in  Europe.  I  doubt  if  any 
state  in  the  Union  goes  to  Europe  as  often  as 
California!  They  are  all  the  more  discon 
tented  when  they  come  back  here  to  vegetate — 
as  Mrs.  Thornton  would  express  it. 

"It  would  be  a  blessed  interval,  but  no  more." 

"We  should  have  time  to  think  out  a  new 
and  different  life.  .  .  . 

"You  know — in  the  class  I  come  from — in 
France — the  women  are  the  partners  of  their 
husbands.  Even  in  the  higher  bourgeoisie,  that 
is,  where  they  still  are  in  business,  not  living 
on  great  inherited  fortunes 

"My  uncle  had  a  small  silk  house  in  Eouen, 
and  my  aunt  kept  the  books  and  attended  to  all 
the  correspondence.  He  always  said  she  was 
the  cleverer  business  man  of  the  two;  but 
French  women  have  a  real  genius  for  business. 


THE  AVALANCHE  179 

Some  of  our  great  ladies  help  their  husbands 
manage  their  estates. 

' '  It  is  only  the  few  that  live  for  pleasure  and 
glitter  in  the  most  glittering  city  in  the  world 
that  have  furnished  the  novelists  the  material 
to  give  the  world  a  false  impression  of  France. 

"The  majority  live  such  sober,  useful,  busy 
lives  that  only  the  highest  genius  could  make 
people  read  about  them. 

"Of  course,  young  girls  dream  of  something 
far  more  brilliant,  and  wait  eagerly  for  the  hus 
band  who  shall  deliver  them  from  their  narrow 
restricted  little  spheres  .  .  .  perhaps  take  them 
to  the  great  world  of  Paris;  but  they  settle 
down,  even  in  Paris,  and  devote  themselves  to 
their  husbands'  interests,  which  are  their 
own,  and  to  their  children.  .  .  . 

"That  is  it!  They  are  indispensable — not  as 
women,  but  as  partners.  I  barely  know  what 
your  business  is  about — only  that  you  are  in 
some  tremendous  wholesale  commission  thing 
with  tentacles  that  reach  half  round  the  world. 

"Only  the  wives  of  politicians  are  any  real 
help  to  their  husbands  in  this  country.  Isabel 
Gwynne !  What  a  help  she  will  be — has  been — 


i8o  THE  AVALANCHE 

to  Mr.  Gwynne.  But  then  she  was  always  busy. 
"When  her  uncle  died  he  left  her  that  little  ranch 
and  scarcely  anything  else,  she  took  to  raising 
chickens — not  to  fuss  about  and  fill  in  her  time, 
but  to  keep  a  roof  over  her  head  and  have 
enough  to  eat  and  wear.  I  doubt  if  she  ever 
was  bored  in  her  life." 

"I  can't  take  you  into  the  business,  sweet 
heart,"  said  Ruyler  slowly.  "For  that  would 
violate  the  traditions  of  a  very  old  conservative 
house.  But  I  can  quite  see  that  something  must 
be  done.  .  .  . 

"I  married  you  to  make  you  happy  and  to 
be  happy  myself.  I  do  not  intend  that  our  mar 
riage  shall  be  a  failure.  It  is  possible  that 
Harold  would  consent  to  come  out  here  and  take 
my  place.  The  business  no  longer  requires  any 
great  amount  of  initiative,  but  the  most  unre 
mitting  vigilance.  I  have  thought — it  has 
merely  passed  through  my  mind — but  you 
might  hate  it — how  would  you  like  it  if  I  bought 
a  large  fruit  ranch,  several  thousand  acres,  and 
put  up  a  canning  factory  besides?  I  would 
make  you  a  full  partner  and  you  would  have  to 


THE  AVALANCHE  181 

give  to  your  share  of  the  work  considerably 
more  than  six  hours  of  the  day 

"We  could  build  a  large,  plain,  comfortable 
house,  take  all  our  books  and  pictures,  subscribe 
to  all  the  newspapers,  magazines  and  reviews, 
keep  up  with  everything  that  is  going  on  in  the 
world,  have  house  parties  once  in  a  while,  come 
to  town  for  a  few  weeks  in  summer  for  the 
plays. 

"We  should  live  practically  an  out-of-door 
life — if  you  preferred  we  could  buy  a  cattle 
ranch  in  the  south.  That  would  mean  the 
greater  part  of  the  day  in  the  saddle 

"How  does  it  appeal  to  you?" 

He  had  turned  off  the  electricity,  but  as  he 
fumbled  with  his  embryonic  idea  he  saw  her 
eyes  sparkle  and  a  light  of  passionate  hope 
dawn  on  her  face. 

"Oh,  I  should  love  it!  But  love  it!  Espe 
cially  the  fruit  ranch.  That  would  be  like 
France — our  orchards  are  as  wonderful  as 
yours,  even  if  nothing  could  be  as  big  as  a  Cali 
fornia  ranch 

"That  is,  if  it  would  not  be  a  makeshift. 
Another  form  of  playing  at  life.'* 


182  THE  AVALANCHE 

"I  can  assure  you  that  we  will  have  to  make 
it  pay  or  go  to  the  wall.  My  father  would  prob 
ably  disinherit  me,  for  it  would  be  breaking 
another  tradition,  and  he  compliments  me  by 
believing  that  I  am  the  best  business  man  in  the 
firm  at  present. 

''My  only  capital  would  be  such  of  my  for 
tune  as  is  not  tied  up  in  the  House — about  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars  in  Government  bonds. 
Of  course,  in  time,  if  all  goes  well,  and  Cali 
fornia  does  not  have  another  setback — if  busi 
ness  improves  all  over  the  world — I  shall  be 
able  to  take  the  rest  of  my  money  out,  that  I  put 
into  this  end  of  the  business  after  the  fire ;  but 
that  may  be  ten  years  hence.  I  shouldn't  even 
ask  for  interest  on  it — that  would  be  the  only 
compensation  I  could  offer  for  deserting  the 
firm. 

''Perhaps  I  had  better  buy  a  cattle  ranch. 
Then,  if  we  fail,  I  shall  at  least  have  had  the 
training  of  a  cowboy  and  can  hire  out. ' ' 

Helene  laughed  and  clapped  her  hands. 
"Fail?  You?  But  I  should  help  you  to  make 
it  a  success — I  should  be  really  necessary1?" 


" 

ner. 
" 
" 


THE  AVALANCHE  183 

Indispensable.    Either  you  or  another  part 
*  ' 

No!  No!  I  shall  be  the  partner  --  " 
And  you  mean  that  you  would  be  willing 
to  bury  your  youth,  your  beauty,  on  a  ranch? 
I  have  heard  bitter  confidences  out  here  from 
women  forced  to  waste  their  youth  on  a  ranch. 
You  are  one  of  the  fine  flowers  of  civiliza 
tion  --  " 

"That  soon  wither  in  the  hothouse  atmos 
phere.  I  wish  to  become  a  hardy  annual.  And 
when  the  ranch  was  running  like  a  clock  we 
could  take  a  month  or  two  in  Europe  every  year 
or  so  -  " 

"Rather!  And  I  could  show  you  off  - 
Bother!  I'll  not  answer.  " 

The  telephone  bell  on  the  little  table  in  the 
corner  (his  own  private  wire)  rang  so  insist 
ently  that  Ruyler  finally  was  magnetized  re 
luctantly  across  the  room.  He  put  the  receiver 
to  his  ear  and  asked,  "Well!"  in  his  most  in 
hospitable  tones. 

The  answer  came  in  Spaulding's  voice,  and  in 
a  moment  he  sat  down. 

At  the  end  of  ten  minutes  he  hung  the  re- 


184  THE  AVALANCHE 

ceiver  on  the  hook  and  returned  to  find  Helene 
standing  by  the  window,  all  the  light  gone  from 
her  eyes,  staring  out  at  the  hard  brilliant 
scene  with  an  expression  of  hopelessness  that 
had  relaxed  the  very  muscles  of  her  face. 

Ruyler  was  shocked,  and  more  apprehensive 
than  he  had  yet  been.  * '  Helene ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"What  is  the  matter?  Surely  you  may  confide 
in  me  if  you  are  in  trouble. ' ' 

"Oh,  but  I  am  not,"  she  replied  coldly.  "Did 
I  look  odd?  I  was  just  wondering  how  many 
really  happy  people  there  were  behind  those 
lights — over  on  Belvedere,  at  Sausalito — the 
lights  look  so  golden  and  steady  and  sure — and 
glimpses  of  interiors  at  night  are  always  so  fas 
cinating — but  I  suppose  most  of  the  people  are 
commonplace  and  just  dully  discontented— 

"Well,  I  am  afraid  I  have  something  to  tell 
you  that  hardly  will  restore  your  delightful 
gayety  of  a  few  moments  ago.  I  am  sorry — but 
— well,  the  fact  is  I  must  leave  for  the  north 
to-morrow  morning  and  hardly  shall  be  able  to 
return  before  the  next  night.  I  am  really  dis 
tressed.  I  wanted  so  much  to  take  you  to-mor 
row  night " 


THE  AVALANCHE  185 

' '  And  I  can 't  wear  the  ruby  ? ' '  Her  voice  was 
shrill.  Ruyler  wondered  if  his  stimulated  im 
agination  fancied  a  note  of  terror  in  it. 

"I — I — am  afraid  not — darling " 

"But  that  Spaulding  man  will  be  there  to 
watch " 

"Unfortunately — I  forgot  to  tell  you — he 
cannot  go — he  is  on  an  important  case.  Besides 
— when  I  make  a  promise  I  usually  keep  it." 

"But — but "  She  stammered  as  if  her 

brain  were  confused,  then  turned  and  pressed 
her  face  to  the  window.  "I  suppose  nothing 
matters,"  she  said  dully.  "Perhaps  you  will 
let  me  wear  my  own  little  ruby.  After  all,  that 
was  maman's,  and  she  gave  it  to  me  before  I 
was  married.  I  should  like  to  wear  one  jewel." 

"You  shall  have  all  your  jewels,  if  you  will 
promise  not  to  give  them  to  Polly  Roberts  or 
any  one  else." 

"I  promise." 

He  went  over  and  opened  the  safe,  and  when 
he  rose  with  the  gold  jewel  case  he  saw  that 
she  was  standing  behind  him.  Once  more  it 
flitted  through  his  mind  that  she  had  watched 
him  manipulate  the  combination  several  times, 


186  THE  AVALANCHE 

but  he  had  little  confidence  in  any  but  a  pro 
fessional  thief's  ability  to  memorize  such  an  in 
volved  assortment  of  figures  as  had  been  in 
vented  for  this  particular  safe.  It  was  only 
once  in  a  while  that  he  was  not  obliged  to  refer 
to  the  key  that  he  carried  in  his  pocketbook. 

Nor  was  she  looking  at  the  safe,  but  staring 
upward  at  a  maharajah,  covered  with  pearls 
of  fantastic  size.  She  took  the  box  from  his 
hand  with  a  polite  word  of  thanks,  offered  her 
cheek  to  be  kissed,  and  left  the  room. 

Price  threw  himself  into  a  chair  and  re 
hearsed  the  instructions  Spaulding  had  given 
him. 


CHAPTER  XI 


IT  was  half-past  eleven  when  Ruyler  and 
Spaulding,  masked  and  wearing  colored  silk 
dominoes,  entered  the  great  gates  of  the  Thorn 
ton  estate  in  San  Mateo,  the  detective  merely 
displaying  something  in  his  palm  to  the  stern 
guardians  that  kept  the  county  rabble  at  bay. 

The  mob  stood  o'ff  rather  grumblingly,  for 
they  would  have  liked  to  get  closer  to  that  gor 
geous  mass  of  light  they  could  merely  glimpse 
through  the  great  oaks  of  the  lower  part  of  the 
estate,  and  to  the  music  so  seductive  in  the  dis 
tance. 

They  were  not  a  rabble  to  excite  pity,  by  any 
means.  A  few  ragged  tramps  had  joined  the 
crowd,  possibly  a  few  pickpockets  from  the  city, 
watching  their  opportunity  to  slip  in  behind  one 
of  the  automobiles  that  brought  the  guests  from 
the  station  or  from  the  estates  up  and  down 

the  valley.  They  were,  for  the  most  part,  trades- 
is? 


i88  THE  AVALANCHE 

people  from  the  little  towns — San  Mateo,  Red 
wood  City — or  the  wives  of  the  proletariat — or 
the  servants  of  the  neighboring  estates.  But, 
although  they  grumbled  and  envied,  they  made 
no  attempt  to  force  their  way  in;  it  was  only 
the  light-fingered  gentry  the  police  at  the  great 
iron  gates  were  on  the  lookout  for. 

Ruyler,  if  his  mind  had  been  less  harrowed 
with  the  looming  and  possibly  dire  climax  of 
his  own  secret  drama,  would  have  laughed  aloud 
at  this  melodramatic  entrance  to  the  grounds 
of  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends.  He  and 
Spaulding  had  walked  from  the  train,  but  they 
were  not  detained  as  long  as  a  gay  party 
of  young  people  from  Atherton,  who  teased 
the  police  by  refusing  to  present  their  cards  or 
lift  their  masks.  Ruyler  knew  them  all,  but 
they  finally  sped  past  him  without  even  a  glance 
of  contempt  for  mere  foot  passengers,  even 
though  they  looked  like  a  couple  of  dodging  con 
spirators. 

He  had  met  Spaulding  at  the  station  in  San 
Francisco,  and  private  conversation  on  the 
crowded  train  had  been  impossible.  When  they 
had  walked  a  few  yards  along  the  wide  avenue, 


THE  AVALANCHE  189 

as  brilliant  as  day  with  its  thousands  of  colored 
lights  concealed  in  the  astonished  pines,  Ruy- 
ler  sat  deliberately  down  upon  a  bench  and  mo 
tioned  the  detective  to  take  the  seat  beside  him. 

"It  is  time  you  gave  me  some  sort  of  a  hint," 
he  said.  "  After  all,  it  is  my  affair " 

"I  know,  but  as  I  said,  you  might  not  approve 
my  methods,  and  if  you  balk,  all  is  up.  We've 
got  the  chance  of  our  lives.  It's  now  or  never. " 

"I  do  not  at  all  like  the  idea  that  you  may  be 
forcing  me  into  a  position  where  I  may  find  my 
self  doing  something  I  shall  be  ashamed  of  for 
the  rest  of  my  life." 

Ruyler's  tone  was  haughty.  He  did  not  rel 
ish  being  led  round  by  the  nose,  and  his  nerves 
were  jumping. 

"Now!  Now!"  said  Spaulding  soothingly,  as 
he  lit  a  cigar.  * '  When  you  hire  a  detective  you 
hire  him  to  do  things  you  wouldn't  do  yourself; 
and  if  you  won't  give  him  the  little  help  he's 
got  to  have  from  you  or  quit,  what's  the  use  of 
hiring  him  at  all? 

"I  know  perfectly  well  that  nothing  but  your 
own  eyes  would  convince  you  of  what  it's  up 
to  me  to  prove — to  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that 


190  THE  AVALANCHE 

I  count  on  your  entrance  at  the  last  minute  to 
put  an  end  to  the  whole  bad  business.  For  it 
is  a  bad  business — believe  me.  But  not  a  word 
of  that  now.  You  couldn't  pry  open  my  lips 
with  a  five  dollar  Havana." 

"Well — you  say  you  had  a  talk  with  Madame 
Delano  to-day.  Surely  you  can  tell  me  some  of 
the  things  you  have  discovered." 

"A  whole  lot.  I've  been  waiting  for  the 
chance.  Not  that  I  got  anything  out  of  her. 
She's  one  grand  bluffer  and  no  mistake.  I  take 
off  my  hat  to  her.  When  I  told  her  that  I  could 
lay  hands  on  the  proof  that  she  was  Marie  Gar- 
nett — although  Jim  had  married  her  in  his  home 
town  under  his  own  name — and  that  she  'd  gone 
home  to  France  with  the  kid  when  it  was  five, 
taking  the  cue  from  her  friend,  Mrs.  Lawton, 
and  sending  word  back  she  was  dead ' 

' '  You  were  equally  sure  a  few  days  ago  that 
she  was  Mrs.  Lawton " 

"That  was  just  my  constructive  imagination 
on  the  loose.  It  was  a  lovely  theory,  and  I  sort 
of  hung  on  to  it.  But  I  had  no  real  data  to  go 
on.  Now  I've  got  the  evidence  that  Jim  Gar- 
nett  died  two  months  before  the  fire  burnt  up 


THE  AVALANCHE  191 

pretty  nearly  all  the  records,  and  that  his  body 
was  shipped  back  to  Holbrook  Centre  to  be 
buried  in  the  family  plot.  You  see,  he  was  sick 
for  some  time  out  on  Pacific  Avenue,  and  his 
death  was  registered  where  the  fire  didn't 
£0 " 

O 

"But  what  put  you  on?"  asked  Ruyler  im 
patiently.  "I  should  almost  rather  it  had  been 
any  one  else.  He  seems  to  have  been  about  as 
bad  a  lot  as  even  this  town  ever  turned  out.'* 

1 '  He  was,  all  right,  and  his  father  before  him, 
although  they  came  from  mighty  fine  folks  back 
east.  His  father  came  out  in  '49  with  the  gold 
rush  crowd,  panned  out  a  good  pile,  and  then, 
liking  the  life — San  Francisco  was  a  gay  little 
burg  those  days — opened  one  of  the  crack  gam 
bling  houses  down  on  the  Old  Plaza.  Plate 
glass  windows  you  could  look  through  from  out 
side  if  you  thought  it  best  to  stay  out,  and  see 
hundreds  of  men  playing  at  tables  where  the 
gold  pieces — often  slugs — were  piled  as  high  as 
their  noses,  and  hundreds  more  walking  up  and 
down  the  aisles  either  waiting  for  a  chance  to 
sit,  or  hoping  to  appease  their  hunger  with  the 
sight  of  so  much  gold.  They  didn't  try  any 


192  THE  AVALANCHE 

funny  business,  for  every  gambler  had  a  six- 
shooter  in  his  hip  pocket,  and  sometimes  on  the 
table  beside  him. 

"  Sometimes  men  would  walk  out  and  shoot 
themselves  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  win 
dows,  and  not  a  soul  inside  would  so  much  as 
look  up.  Well,  Delano  the  first  had  a  short  life 
but  a  merry  one.  He  couldn't  keep  away  from 
the  tables  himself,  and  first  thing  he  knew  he 
was  broke,  sold  up.  He  went  back  to  the  mines, 
but  his  luck  had  gone,  and  his  wife — she  had 
followed  him  out  here — persuaded  him  to  go 
back  home  and  live  in  the  old  house,  on  a  little 
income  she  had ;  and  he  bored  all  the  neighbors 
to  death  for  a  few  years  about  '  early  days  in 
California'  until  he  dropped  off.  Her  name  was 
Mary  Garnett. 

"That's  what  put  me  on — the  G.  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  name  of  the  man  Madame  Delano 
married.  I  telegraphed  to  Holbrook  Centre  to 
find  out  what  his  middle  name  was,  and  after 
that  it  was  easy.  I  also  found  out  that  he  was 
born  in  California,  and  I  guess  that  old  wild 
life  was  in  his  blood.  He  stood  Holbrook  Cen 
tre  until  he  was  sixteen,  and  then  homed  back 


THE  AVALANCHE  193 

and  took  up  the  trade  he  just  naturally  had  in 
herited. 

"I  figger  out  that  he  didn't  tell  his  wife  the 
truth  when  he  married  her  back  there,  not  until 
he  was  on  the  train  pretty  close  to  S.  F.,  and 
then  he  told  her  because  he  couldn't  help  him 
self.  She  couldn't  help  herself,  either,  and  be 
sides  she  was  in  love  with  him.  He  was  a  hand 
some,  distinguished  lookin'  chap,  and  he  kept 
right  on  bein'  a  fascinator  as  long  as  he  lived. 

"I  guess  that's  the  reason  she  left  him  in  the 
end.  She  stood  for  the  gambling  joint,  and,  al 
though  she  had  a  cool  sarcastic  way  with  her 
that  kept  the  men  who  fell  for  her  at  a  distance, 
she  was  a  good  decoy,  and  she  looked  a  regular 
queen  at  the  head  of  the  green  table.  She  was 
chummy  with  Jim's  intimates,  two  of  whom 
were  D.  V.  Bimmer  and  'Gene  Bisbee,  but  even 
'Gene  didn't  dare  take  any  liberties  with  her. 

1  'It  was  natural  that  a  woman  brought  up  as 
she  had  been  should  have  kept  her  child  out  of 
it,  and  I  figger  that  she  got  disgusted  with  Jim 
and  came  to  the  full  sense  of  her  duty  to  the 
poor  kid  about  the  same  time.  But  she  didn't 
go  until  Jim  settled  so  much  a  month  on  her 


194  THE  AVALANCHE 

through  old  Lawton — who  used  to  amuse  him 
self  at  Garnett's  a  good  deal  in  those  days,  and 
who  was  one  of  her  best  friends. 

"Well,  she  also  got  Garnett  to  make  a  curious 
sort  of  a  will,  leaving  his  money  to  James  Law- 
ton,  to  'dispose  of  as  agreed  upon.'  She  had 
a  thrifty  business  head,  had  that  French  dame, 
and  she  had  made  him  buy  property  when  he 
was  flush,  and  put  it  in  her  name,  although  she 
gave  a  written  agreement  never  to  sell  out  as 
long  as  he  lived. 

"He  agreed  to  let  her  go  because  he  was 
dippy  about  another  skirt  at  the  time,  and,  be 
sides,  she  played  on  his  family  pride — lineal  de 
scendant  of  the  Delanos,  Garnetts,  and  so  forth. 
He'd  never  seen  the  kid  after  it  was  taken  to 
the  convent,  but  I  guess  he  liked  the  idea,  all 
right,  of  its  being  brought  up  wearing  the  old 
name,  and  gettin'  rid  of  Marie  at  the  same  time. 

"She  was  too  canny  to  leave  him  a  loophole 
for  divorce,  even  in  California ;  but  I  guess  that 
didn't  worry  him  much. 

"If  the  earthquake  and  fire  hadn't  come  so 
soon  after  the  will  was  probated  there  might 
have  been  a  lot  of  speculation  about  it,  among 


THE  AVALANCHE  195 

men,  at  least.  Those  old  gossips  in  the  Club 
windows  would  soon  have  been  putting  two  and 
two  together ;  but  the  calamity  that  burnt  up  all 
the  Club  windows,  just  swept  it  clean  out  of 
their  heads. 

"I  figger  out  that  old  Lawton  continued  to 
pay  Madame  Delano  the  income  she'd  been 
havin'  both  from  Jim  and  her  properties,  out 
of  his  own  pocket,  until  the  city  was  rebuilt  and 
he  could  settle  the  estate.  He  had  to  borrow 
the  money  to  rebuild  the  houses  Jim  had  put 
up  on  his  wife 's  property,  and  when  things  got 
to  a  certain  pass  he  wrote  Madame  D.  to  come 
along  and  take  over  her  property.  She'll  be 
good  and  rich  one  of  these  days,  when  all  the 
mortgages  are  paid  off  and  Lawton  paid  back, 
but  it  was  wise  for  her  to  stay  on  the  job.  Law- 
ton  is  dead  straight,  but  his  partner  is  sowing 
wild  oats  in  his  old  age — good  old  S.  F.  style, 
and  I  guess  it  ain't  wise  to  tempt  him  too  far. 
Get  me?" 

"It's  atrocious!" 

"Oh,  not  nearly  so  bad  as  it  might  be.  Just 
think,  if  it  had  been  Gabrielle,  or  Pauline-Ma 
rie,  or  even  Mrs.  Lawton.  That's  the  worst 


196  THE  AVALANCHE 

kind  of  bad  blood  for  a  woman  to  inherit.  Ma 
rie  Garnett  hung  on  like  grim  death  to  what  the 
grand  society  you  move  in  pretends  to  value 
most,  and  the  Lord  knows  she'll  never  lose  it 
now. 

"Nor  need  there  be  any  scandal  to  drive  your 
family  to  suicide.  The  thing  to  do  is  to  hustle 
Madame  Delano  out  of  San  Francisco.  She'll 
go,  all  right,  with  you  to  look  after  her  inter 
ests.  She  don't  fancy  being  recognized  and 
blackmailed,  or  I  miss  my  guess.  You  may  have 
to  pay  Bisbee  something,  but  D.  V.'s  not  that 
sort,  and  I  don't  think  anybody  else  is  on.  If 
they've  suspected  they'll  soon  forget  it  when 
the  old  lady  disappears  from  the  Palace  Hotel. 
Gee,  but  she  has  a  nerve. ' ' 

"She  is  an  old  cynic.  If  she  had  any  snob 
bery  in  her  she'd  be  here  to-night,  rubbing  el 
bows  with  the  women  who  never  knew  of  her 
existence  twenty  years  ago,  although  their  hus 
bands  did.  It  has  satisfied  her  ironic  French 
soul  to  sit  in  the  court  of  the  Palace  Hotel  day 
after  day  and  defy  San  Francisco  to  recognize 
Marie  Garnett  in  the  obese  Madame  Delano, 
whose  daughter  is  one  of  the  great  ladies  of 


THE  AVALANCHE  197 

the  city  to  whose  underworld  she  once  belonged, 
and  from  whose  filthy  profits  she  derives  her 
income.  Good  God!" 

He  sat  forward  and  clutched  his  head,  but 
Spaulding,  who  had  drawn  out  his  watch,  tapped 
him  on  the  shoulder. 

1 1 Come  on,"  he  said.  "Time's  gettin'  short. 
The  stunt  is  to  be  pulled  off  just  before  sup 
per." 


CHAPTER 


rTlHEY  walked  rapidly  up  the  close  avenue 
•1  — planted  far  back  in  the  Fifties  by  Ford 
Thornton's  grandfather — the  blaze  of  light  at 
the  end  of  the  long  perspective  growing  wider 
and  wider.  As  they  emerged  they  paused  for  a 
moment,  dazzled  by  the  scene. 

The  original  home  of  the  Thorntons  had  been 
of  ordinary  American  architecture  and  covered 
with  ivy ;  it  might  have  been  transplanted  from 
some  old  aristocratic  village  in  the  East.  Flora 
Thornton  had  maintained  that  only  one  style 
of  architecture  was  appropriate  in  a  state  set 
tled  by  the  Spaniards,  and  famous  for  its  mis 
sions  of  Moorish  architecture.  Fordy  loved  the 
old  house,  but  as  he  denied  his  wife  nothing  he 
had  given  her  a  million,  three  years  before  the 
fire  which  so  sadly  diminished  fortunes,  and 
told  her  to  build  any  sort  of  house  she  pleased ; 

198 


THE  AVALANCHE  199 

if  she  would  only  promise  to  live  in  it  and  not 
desert  him  twice  a  year  for  Europe. 

The  immense  structure,  standing  on  a  knoll, 
bore  a  certain  resemblance  to  the  Alhambra, 
with  its  heavy  square  towers;  its  arched  gate 
ways  leading  into  courtyards  with  fountains  or 
sunken  pools,  the  red  brown  of  the  stucco  which 
looked  like  stone  and  was  not.  To-night  it  was 
blazing  with  lights  of  every  color. 

So  were  the  ancient  oaks,  which  were  old 
when  the  Alhambra  was  built,  the  shrubberies, 
the  vast  rose  garden.  The  surface  of  the  pool 
in  the  sunken  garden  reflected  the  green  or  red 
masses  of  light  that  shot  up  every  few  moments 
from  the  four  corners  of  the  terrace  surround 
ing  it.  On  the  lawn  just  above  and  to  the  right 
of  the  house,  a  platform  had  been  built  for  danc 
ing;  it  was  enclosed  on  three  sides  with  an  ar 
bor  of  many  alcoves,  lined  with  flowers,  soft 
lights  concealed  in  depending  clusters  of 
oranges. 

And  everywhere  there  were  people  dressed 
in  costumes,  gorgeous,  picturesque,  impres 
sive,  historic,  or  recklessly  invented,  but 
suggesting  every  era  when  dress  counted  at  all. 


200  THE  AVALANCHE 

They  danced  on  the  great  platform  to  the 
strains  of  the  invisible  band,  strolled  along  the 
terraces  above  the  sunken  garden,  wandered 
through  the  groves  and  " grounds,"  or  sat  in 
the  windows  of  the  great  house  or  in  its  courts. 
All  wore  the  little  black  satin  mask  prescribed 
by  Mrs.  Thorton,  and  created  an  illusion  that 
transported  the  imagination  far  from  Cali 
fornia.  Kuyler  had  a  whimsical  sense  of  being 
on  another  star  where  the  favored  of  the  differ 
ent  periods  of  Earth  had  foregathered  for  the 
night. 

But  there  was  nothing  ghostly  in  the  shrill 
chatter  as  incessant  as  the  twitter  of  the  agi 
tated  birds,  who  found  their  night  snatched 
from  them  and  hardly  knew  whether  to  scold  or 
join  in  the  chorus. 

Euyler  had  always  protested  against  the 
high-pitched  din  made  by  even  six  American 
women  when  gathered  together,  and  to  the  in 
fernal  racket  at  any  large  entertainment;  but 
to-night  he  sighed,  forgetting  his  apprehensions 
for  the  moment. 

He  had  exquisite  memories  of  these  lovely 
grounds ;  he  and  Helene  had  spent  several  days 


THE  AVALANCHE  201 

with  Mrs.  Thornton  during  their  engagement, 
and  she  had  lent  them  the  house  for  their  honey 
moon;  he  would  have  liked  to  wander  through 
the  pleasant  spaces  with  his  wife  to-night  and 
make  love  to  her,  instead  of  spying  on  her  in 
the  company  of  a  detective. 

For  that,  he  was  forced  to  conclude,  was  what 
he  had  been  brought  for.  Spaulding  had  men 
tioned  her  name  casually,  when  telling  him  that 
he  must  be  on  hand  to  nab  the  " party"  who 
was  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  trouble;  but 
Spaulding  hardly  could  have  watched  the  per 
son  who  was  blackmailing  without  including  her 
in  his  surveillance.  He  wished  now  that  he  had 
left  that  part  of  the  mystery  to  take  care  of 
itself,  trusting  to  his  mother-in-law's  departure 
to  relieve  the  situation.  No  doubt  she  would 
have  told  him  the  truth  herself  rather  than 
leave  her  daughter  to  the  mercy  of  the  men 
who  knew  her  secret. 

But  he  was  still  far  from  suspecting  the 
worst  of  the  truth. 

There  were  a  number  of  men  in  fancy  domi 
noes;  he  and  Spaulding  crossed  the  lawn  in 
front  of  the  house  unchallenged  and,  passing 


202  THE  AVALANCHE 

under  the  frowning  archway,  entered  the  first 
of  the  courts. 

The  oblong  sunken  pool  was  banked  with 
myrtle,  and  above,  as  well  as  in  the  great  inner 
court  with  the  fountain,  there  were  narrow  ar- 
caded  windows  with  fluttering  silken  curtains. 
Mrs.  Thornton  had  too  satiric  a  sense  of  humor 
to  have  had  the  famous  arabesques  of  the  Al- 
hambra  reproduced  any  more  than  the  massive 
coats-of-arms  above  the  arches,  but  the  walls 
were  delicately  colored,  the  delicate  columns 
looked  like  old  ivory,  and  the  greatest  of  the 
local  architects  had  been  entirely  successful  in 
combining  the  massiveness  of  the  warrior 
stronghold  with  the  airy  lightness  and  spacious 
ness  of  the  pleasure  house. 

The  bedrooms,  Ruyler  told  Spaulding,  were 
all  as  modern  as  they  were  luxurious,  and  tho 
library,  living-rooms,  and  dining-room,  were  in 
the  best  American  style.  Fordy  had  rebelled 
at  too  much  "Spanish  atmosphere,"  his  blood 
being  straight  Anglo-Saxon,  and  Mrs.  Thorn 
ton  always  knew  when  to  yield.  Nevertheless, 
Flora  Thornton  had  built  the  proper  setting  for 
her  barbaric  beauty,  and,  possibly,  spirit. 


THE  AVALANCHE  203 

People  were  sitting  about  the  courts  on  piles 
of  colored  silken  cushions,  those  that  had  got 
themselves  up  in  Eastern  costumes  having 
drifted  naturally  to  the  suitable  surroundings  j 
for,  after  all,  the  Moors  had  been  Mohamme 
dans. 

" Don't  let's  hang  round  here,"  said  the  de 
tective,  "and  don't  stand  holding  yourself  like 
a  ramrod — like  that  gent  out  there  with  the 
ruff  that  must  be  taking  the  skin  off  his  chin. 
I  kinder  thought  I'd  like  to  see  the  whole  show, 
but  we'd  best  go  now  and  wait  for  our  little 
turn." 

He  led  the  way  round  the  building  to  the  rear 
of  the  southwest  tower.  There  was  a  little 
grove  of  jasmine  trees  just  beneath  it,  that 
made  the  air  overpoweringly  sweet,  but  there 
were  no  lights  on  this  side,  as  the  garages, 
stables,  vegetable  gardens,  and  servants'  quar 
ters  would  have  destroyed  the  picture. 

Spaulding  glanced  about  sharply,  but  there 
was  not  even  a  strolling  couple,  and  even  the 
moon  was  shining  on  the  other  side  of  the  heavy 
mass  of  buildings. 

"Now,  listen,"  he  said.    "You  see  this  win- 


204  THE  AVALANCHE 

dow?" — he  indicated  one  directly  over  their 
heads.  "At  exactly  one  o'clock,  when  every 
body  is  flocking  to  the  supper  tables  on  the  ter 
races,  I  expect  some  one  to  lean  out  of  that  win 
dow  and  talk  to  some  one  who  will  be  waiting 
just  below.  There  may  be  no  talk,  but  I  think 
there  will  be,  and  I  want  you  to  listen  to  every 
word  of  it  without  so  much  as  drawing  a  long 
breath,  no  matter  what  is  said,  until  I  grab  your 
elbow — like  this — then  I  want  you  to  put  up 
your  hand  in  a  hurry  while  I'm  also  attendin' 
to  business. 

"That's  all  I'll  say  now.  But  by  the  time  a 
few  words  have  been  said,  later,  I  guess  you'll 
be  on. 

"Now,  we  must  resign  ourselves  to  a  long 
wait  without  a  smoke  and  to  keeping  perfectly 
still.  I  dared  not  risk  comin'  any  later  for  fear 
the  others  might  be  beforehand,  too." 

Euyler  ground  his  teeth.  He  felt  ridiculous 
and  humiliated.  It  was  no  compensation  that 
he  was  holding  up  the  wall  of  a  stucco  Moorish 
palace  and  that  some  three  hundred  masked 
people  in  fancy  dress  were  within  earshot  .  .  . 
or  did  the  way  he  was  togged  out  make  him  feel 


THE  AVALANCHE  205 

all  the  more  absurd?  The  whole  thing  was 
beastly  un-American.  .  .  . 

But,  was  it,  after  all?  If  he  and  Helene  had 
been  here  together  to-night,  not  married  and 
harrowed,  but  engaged  and  quick  with  romance, 
would  he  have  thought  it  absurd  to  conspire  and 
maneuver  to  separate  her  from  the  crowd  and 
snatch  a  few  moments  of  heavenly  solitude? 
Would  he  have  despised  himself  for  suffering 
torments  if  she  flouted  him  or  for  wanting  to 
murder  any  man  who  balked  him? 

Love,  and  all  the  passions,  creative  and  de 
structive,  it  engendered,  all  the  sentiments  and 
follies  and  crimes,  to  say  nothing  of  ambition 
and  greed  and  the  lust  to  kill  in  war — these 
were  instincts  and  traits  that  appeared  in  man 
kind  generation  after  generation,  in  every  cor 
ner  civilized  and  savage  of  the  globe.  The 
world  changed  somewhat  in  form  during  its 
progress,  but  never  in  substance. 

And  mystery  and  intrigue  were  equally  a  part 
of  life,  as  indigenous  to  the  Twentieth  Century 
as  to  those  days  long  entombed  in  history  when 
the  troops  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  sat  down 
on  the  plain  before  Grenada. 


206  THE  AVALANCHE 

Plot  and  melodrama  were  in  every  life;  in 
some  so  briefly  as  hardly  to  be  recognized,  in 
others — in  that  of  certain  men  and  women 
in  the  public  eye,  for  instance — they  were  al 
most  in  the  nature  of  a  continuous  perform 
ance. 

In  these  days  men  took  a  bath  morning  and 
evening,  ate  daintily,  had  a  refined  vocabulary 
to  use  on  demand,  dressed  in  tweeds  instead  of 
velvet.  There  were  longer  intervals  between 
the  old  style  of  warfare  when  men  were  always 
plugging  one  another  full  of  holes  in  the  name 
of  religion  or  disputed  territory,  merely  to 
amuse  themselves  with  a  tryout  of  Right  against 
Might,  or  to  gratify  the  insane  ambition  of 
some  upstart  like  Napoleon.  To-day  the  busi 
ness  world  was  the  battlefield,  and  it  was  his 
capital  a  man  was  always  healing,  his  poor 
brain  that  collapsed  nightly  after  the  strain  and 
nervous  worry  of  the  day. 

It  suddenly  felt  quite  normal  to  be  here  flat 
tened  against  a  wall  waiting  for  some  impos 
sible  denouement. 

Nevertheless,  he  was  sick  with  apprehension. 

Would  it  merely  be  the  prelude  to  another 


THE  AVALANCHE  207 

drama?  Was  his  life  to  be  a  series  of  unwrit 
ten  plays,  of  which  he  was  both  the  hero  and 
the  bewildered  spectator?  Or  would  it  bring 
him  calm,  the  terrible  calm  of  stagnation,  of  an 
inner  life  finished,  sealed,  buried? 

It  was  inevitable  in  these  romantic  surround 
ings  and  conditions  that  he  should  revert  to  his 
almost  forgotten  jealousy.  Suppose  Spaulding 
had  stumbled  upon  something.  .  .  .  But  he  had 
been  asked  for  no  such  evidence.  ...  It  would 
be  a  damnable  liberty.  ...  It  might  be  inex 
tricably  woven  with  the  business  in  hand.  .  .  . 
There  were  other  men  besides  Doremus  whom 
Helene  saw  constantly.  .  .  .  Spaulding  may 
have  seen  his  chance  to  nip  the  thing  in  the  bud, 
and  had  taken  the  risk.  .  .  . 

He  felt  the  detective's  lips  at  his  ear:  "Hear 
anything?  Move  a  little  so's  you  can  look  up." 

Ruyler  heard  his  wife's  voice  above  him,  then 
Aileen  Lawton's.  He  parted  the  branches  and 
saw  the  two  girls  lean  over  the  low  sill  of  the 
casement.  Both  had  removed  their  masks,  but 
their  faces  were  only  dimly  revealed.  Their 
voices,  however,  were  distinct  enough,  and  his 
wife's  was  dull  and  flat. 


208  THE  AVALANCHE 

"Oh,  I  can't,"  she  said.    "I  can't. 
"Well,  you'll  just  jolly  well  have  to.    You've 
got  it,  haven't  you?" 
"Oh,  yes,  I've  got  it!" 
"Well,  he'll  never  suspect  you." 
"I  shall  tell  him." 
"Tell  him?    You  little  fool.    And  give  us  all 


"I'd  mention  no  other  names." 

"As  if  he  wouldn't  probe  until  he  found  out. 
Don't  you  know  Price  Ruyler  yet?  My  father 
said  once  he'd  have  made  a  great  District  At 
torney.  What's  the  use  of  telling  him  later,  for 
that  matter?  Why  not  now?" 

"I  haven't  the  courage  yet.  I  might  have  one 
day — at  just  the  right  moment.  I  never  thought 
I  was  a  coward." 

"You're  just  a  kid.  That's  what's  the  mat 
ter.  We  ought  to  have  left  you  out.  I  told 
Polly  that " 

"You  couldn't!  Oh,  don't  you  see  you 
couldn't.  That's  the  terrible  part  of  it!  Left 
me  out?  I'd  have  found  my  way  in." 

"I'm  not  so  sure.  You  were  interested  in 
heaps  of  things,  and  in  love,  and  all  that " 


THE  AVALANCHE  209 

"Oh,  I'd  like  to  excuse  myself  by  blaming  it 
on  being  bored,  and  tired  of  trying  to  amuse  my 
self  doing  nothing  worth  while,  but  it's  bad 
blood,  that's  what  it  is,  bad  blood,  and  you 
know  it,  if  none  of  the  others  do." 

1  'Oh,  I'm  not  one  of  your  heredity  fiends. 
When  did  your  mother  tell  you?" 

"Only  the  other  day." 

"Well,  she  ought  to  have  told  you  long  ago. 
I  believe  you'd  have  kept  out  if  you'd  known." 

' '  Wouldn  't  1 1  But  of  course  she  hated  to  tell 
the  truth  to  me " 

"Well,  if  I'd  known  that  you  didn't  know  I'd 
have  told  you,  all  right.  I  wormed  it  out  of  Dad 
soon  after  you  arrived,  and  at  first  I  thought 
it  was  a  good  joke  on  Society,  to  say  nothing  of 
Price  Ruyler,  with  his  air  of  God  having  cre 
ated  heaven  first,  maybe,  but  New  York  just 
after.  Then  I  got  fond  of  you  and  I  wouldn't 
have  told  for  the  world.  But  I  would  have  put 
you  on  your  guard  if  I'd  known." 

1 '  Oh,  it  doesn 't  matter.  Even  if  Price  doesn  't 
find  out  about  this,  if  he  learns  the  other — who 
my  father  was,  and  that  awful  men  have  recog- 


210  THE  AVALANCHE 

nized  my  mother — I  suppose  he'll  hate  me,  and 

in  time  I'll  go  back  to  Rouen " 

"Now,  you  don't  think  as  ill  as  that  of  him, 
do  you?  He  makes  me  so  mad  sometimes  I 
could  spit  in  his  face,  but  if  he's  one  thing  he's 
true  blue.  He's  the  straight  masculine  type 
with  a  streak  of  old  romance  that  would  make 
him  love  a  woman  the  more,  the  sorrier  he  was 
for  her,  and  the  weaker  she  was — I  mean  so 
long  as  she  was  young.  After  this,  just  get  to 
work  on  your  character,  kid.  When  you're 
thirty  maybe  he  won't  feel  that  it's  his  whole 
duty  to  protect  you.  You'll  never  be  hard  and 
seasoned  like  me,  nor  able  to  take  care  of  your 
self.  I  like  danger,  and  excitement,  and  uncer 
tainty,  and  mystery,  and  intrigue,  and  lying, 
and  wriggling  out  of  tight  places.  I'd  have 
gone  mad  in  this  hole  long  ago,  if  I  hadn't,  for 
1  don't  care  for  sport.  But  you  were  intended 
to  develop  into  what  is  called  a  'fine  woman,' 
surrounded  by  the  right  sort  of  man  meanwhile. 
And  Price  Buyler  is  the  right  sort.  I'll  say 
that  much  for  him.  He'd  have  driven  me  to 
drink,  but  he's  just  your  sort " 


THE  AVALANCHE  211 

"And  what  am  I  doing?  I  am  the  most  de 
graded  woman  in  the  world." 

"Oh,  no,  you're  not.  Not  by  a  long  sight. 
Yon  don't  know  how  much  worse  you  could  be. 
One  woman  who  is  here  to-night  I  saw  lying 
dead  drunk  in  the  road  between  San  Mateo  and 
Burlingame  the  other  day  when  I  was  driving 
with  Alice  Thorndyke,  and  Alice  is  having  her 
fourth  or  fifth  lover,  I  forget  which " 

"They  are  no  worse  than  I." 

"Listen.    He's  coming.    Got  it  ready?" 

"I  can't." 

"You  must.  He'll  hound  you  in  the  Merry 
Tattler  until  the  whole  town  knows  you're  a 
welcher,  and  not  a  soul  would  speak  to  you. 
That  is  the  one  unpardonable  sin " 

"I  wish  I'd  told  Price " 

"Oh,  no,  you  don't.  This  is  just  a  lovely  way 
out.  Glad  he  had  the  inspiration.  Hello, 
Nick." 

A  man  had  groped  his  way  between  the  trees 
and  stood  just  under  the  window. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  asked  Doremus 
sourly. 

"Witness,  witness,  my  dear  Nick.    Besides, 


212  THE  AVALANCHE 

poor  Helene  never  would  have  come  alone,  so 
there  you  are." 

' '  To  hell  with  all  this  melodramatic  business. 
It  could  have  been  done  anywhere " 

"Not  much.    Dark  corners  for  dark  doings." 

"Well,  hand  it  over." 

Ruyler  had  given  his  brain  an  icy  shower 
bath  as  soon  as  he  heard  his  wife's  voice,  and 
was  now  as  cool  and  alert  as  even  the  detective 
could  have  wished.  He  did  not  wait  for  the 
promised  impulse  to  his  elbow;  his  hand  shot 
up  just  ahead  of  Doremus's  and  closed  over  his 
wife's  hand,  which,  he  felt  at  once,  held  the  ruby. 
At  the  same  moment  Spaulding  caught  Doremus 
by  his  medieval  collar  and  shook  him  until  the 
man's  teeth  chattered,  then  he  slapped  his  face 
and  kicked  him. 

"Now,  you,"  he  said  standing  over  the  pant 
ing  man,  who  was  mopping  his  bleeding  nose, 
and  holding  the  electric  torch  so  that  it  would 
shine  on  his  own  face.  "You  get  out  of  Cali 
fornia,  d'you  hear?  You're  a  gambler  and  a 
blackmailer  and  a  panderer  to  old  women,  and 
I've  got  some  evidence  that  would  drag  you  into 
court  however  it  turned  out,  so's  you'd  find  this 


THE  AVALANCHE  213 

town  a  live  gridiron.    So,  git,  while  you  can. 
Go  while  the  going's  good." 

Doremus,  too  shaken  to  reply,  slunk  off,  and 
Spaulding  after  a  glance  upward,  left  as  si 
lently. 


CHAPTER  XIH 


AILEEN  had  shrieked  and  fled.  Ruyler 
stood  in  the  room  with  the  ruby  in  his 
open  hand.  He  saw  that  Helene  was  standing 
quite  erect  before  him.  She  had  made  no  at 
tempt  to  leave  the  room,  nor  did  she  appear  to 
be  threatened  with  hysterics. 

He  groped  until  he  found  the  electric  but 
ton.  The  room,  as  Ruyler  had  inferred,  was 
Mrs.  Thornton's  winter  boudoir,  a  gorgeous 
room  of  yellow  brocade  and  oriental  stuffs. 

"Will  you  sit  down?"  he  asked. 

Helene  shook  her  head.  She  was  very  white 
and  she  looked  as  old  as  a  young  actress  who 
has  been  doing  one  night  stands  for  three 
months.  Behind  the  drawn  mask  of  her  face 
there  was  her  indestructible  youth,  but  so  faint 
that  it  thought  itself  dead. 

She  looked  at  her  hands,  which  she  twisted 
together  as  if  they  were  cold. 

214 


THE  AVALANCHE  215 

"Will  you  tell  me  the  truth  now!"  asked 
Price. 

"Don't  you  guess  it?" 

"When  I  came  here  to-night  I  believed  that 
you  were  the  victim  of  blackmail.  I  was  not 
watching  you — I  hope  you  will  take  my  word 
for  that.  We — I  had  a  detective  on  the  case — 
Spaulding  merely  wanted  to  nab  the  man  who 
was  blackmailing  you " 

"Do  you  still  believe  that?" 

"I  overheard  your  conversation  with  Aileen 
Lawton.  I  don't  know  what  to  believe." 

"I  am  a  gambler.  My  father  was  a  gambler. 
He  kept  a  notorious  place  in  San  Francisco. 
His  name  out  here  was  James  Garnett.  My 
grandfather  was  a  gambler.  He  was  even  more 
spectacular— 

"I  know  all  that.    Don't  mind." 

"You  knew  it?"  For  the  first  time  she 
looked  at  him,  but  she  turned  her  eyes  away  at 
once  and  stared  at  the  oblong  of  dark  framed 
by  the  window.  "Why " 

"Spaulding  told  me  to-night  only." 

"Mother  told  me  a  week  or  so  ago.  She'd 
been  recognized.  Shortly  after  I  married,  when 


216  THE  AVALANCHE 

she  found  out  how  the  women  played  bridge  and 
poker  here,  she  made  me  promise  I'd  never 
touch  a  card,  never  play  any  sort  of  gambling 
game.  I  promised  readily  enough,  and  I 
thought  nothing  of  her  insistence.  Maman  was 
old-fashioned  in  many  ways — I  mean  the  life  we 
lived  in  Rouen  was  so  different  from  this  that  I 
could  understand  how  many  things  would 
shock  her.  I  never  thought  about  it — but — it 
was  about  six  months  ago — you  were  away  for 
a  week  and  I  stayed  with  Polly  Roberts  at  the 
Fairmont.  I  knew  of  course  that  she  played 
and  that  Aileen  and  a  lot  of  the  others  did,  but 
I  hadn't  given  the  matter  a  thought.  One  heard 
nothing  but  bridge,  bridge,  bridge.  I  was  sick 
of  the  word. 

"But  I  found  they  played  poker.  Polly  and 
Aileen,  Alice  Thorndyke,  Janet  Maynard,  Mary 
Kimball,  Nick  Doremus,  Rex  and  one  or  two 
other  men  who  could  get  off  in  the  afternoons. 

"I  never  had  dreamed  any  one  in  society 
played  for  such  high  stakes.  Janet  Maynard 
and  Mary  Kimball  could  afford  it,  but  Polly 
and  Alice  and  Aileen  couldn't.  Still  they  often 
won — enough,  anyhow,  to  clean  up  and  go  on. 


THE  AVALANCHE  217 

Dorenms  is  a  wonderful  player.  That  is  how 
I  got  interested,  watching  him  after  he  had  ex 
plained  the  game  to  me. 

"It  was  a  long  time  before  I  was  persuaded 
to  take  a  hand.  It  was  so  interesting  just  to 
watch.  And  not  only  the  game,  but  their  faces. 
Some  would  have  a  regular  'poker  face,'  others 
would  give  themselves  away.  Once  Aileen  had 
the  most  awful  hysterics.  We  were  afraid  some 
one  outside  would  hear  her ;  the  deadening  was 
burnt  out  of  the  walls  of  the  Fairmont  at  the 
time  of  the  fire.  But  we  were  in  the  middle 
room  of  the  suite. 

"Nick  told  her  in  his  dreadful  cold  expres 
sionless  voice  that  if  she  ever  did  that  again 
he'd  never  play  another  game  with  her.  That 
meant  that  they'd  all  drop  her,  and  she  came 
to  and  promised,  and  she  kept  her  word.  Poker 
is  the  breath  of  life  to  her.  I  think  she'd  be 
come  a  drug  fiend  if  she  couldn't  have  it. 

"At  last  they  persuaded  me  to  play.  We 
were  playing  at  Nick's,  and  after  a  light  dinner 
served  by  his  Jap,  we  went  right  on  playing 
until  midnight.  I  never  thought  of  you  or  any 
thing.  I  seemed  to  respond  with  every  nerve 


218  THE  AVALANCHE 

in  my  body  and  brain.  I  won  and  won  and  won, 
and  even  when  I  lost  I  didn't  mind.  The  sen 
sation,  the  tearing  excitement  just  under  a  per 
fectly  cool  brain  was  wonderful. 

"I  only  ceased  to  enjoy  it  when  I  realized 
what  it  meant.  When  I  couldn't  keep  away 
from  it.  When  I  lived  for  the  hour  when  we 
would  meet, — at  Polly's,  or  at  Nick's  or  at 
Aileen's — any  of  the  places  where  we  were  sup 
posed  to  be  dancing,  but  where  there  was  no 
danger  of  being  found  out.  Of  course  I  dared 
not  have  them  at  home,  and  the  others  lived  with 
their  families,  or  had  too  many  servants.  .  .  . 

"I  came  fully  to  my  senses  one  day  when  Nick 
told  me  I  was  a  born  gambler  if  ever  there  was 
one.  Then,  when  I  realized,  I  became  desper 
ately  unhappy. 

"I  was  the  slave  of  a  thing.  I  was  deceiving 
you.  When  I  was  at  the  table  I  loved  poker 
better  than  you,  better  than  anything  on  earth. 
When  I  was  alone  I  hated  it.  But  I  couldn't 
break  away.  Besides,  I  didn't  always  win.  I 
had  to  play  in  the  hope  of  winning  back.  Or 
if  I  won  a  lot  it  was  a  point  of  honor  to  go  on 
and  play  again  and  give  them  their  chance. 


THE  AVALANCHE  219 

"Mrs.  Thornton  found  out.  She  gave  me  a 
terrible  talking  to.  I  am  afraid  I  was  very  in 
solent. 

"But  she  came  up  that  night  of  the  Assembly 
and  warned  me  that  you  were  down  stairs.  I 
was  playing  in  Polly's  room.  We  had  all 
danced  two  or  three  times  and  then  slipped  up 
to  the  next  floor  by  different  stairs  and  lifts. 
I  liked  her  better  then.  Of  course  she  did  it  for 
your  sake,  not  mine.  But  she's  a  good  sort,  not 
a  cat. 

"You  have  not  noticed,  but  I  have  not  bought 
a  new  gown  this  season  except  that  little  gray 
one  and  this — which  was  made  in  the  house.  I 
dared  not  pawn  my  jewels,  for  fear  you  would 
miss  them. 

"I  have  been  in  hell. 

"Then — it  was  that  evening  you  heard 
maman  reproach  me  for  breaking  my  promise — 
I  had  lost  a  dreadful  lot  of  money  and  Nick 
had  scurried  round  and  borrowed  it  for  me.  I 
didn't  know  then  that  he  meant  all  the  time 
to  get  hold  of  the  ruby — I  am  sure  now  that  he 
cheated  and  made  me  lose. 

"Well,  I  sent  the  maid  away  that  night  and 


220  THE  AVALANCHE 

told  maman.  She  was  nearly  off  her  head.  I 
never  saw  her  excited  before.  Then  she  tolcl 
me  the  truth.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  turned  to 
stone.  But  I  felt  suddenly  cool  and  wary.  I 
knew  I  must  keep  my  head.  It  was  as  if  my 
father  had  suddenly  come  alive  in  my  brain.  I 
had  never  lied  to  you  before,  merely  put  you 
off.  But  how  I  lied  that  night !  I  felt  possessed. 
But  I  knew  I  must  not  be  found  out,  and  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  stop  playing  as  soon  as  I  came 
out  even.  If  I  had  known  that  my  father  and 
my  grandfather  had  been  gamblers  I  never 
should  have  touched  a  card.  I'd  far  rather 
have  drunk  poison. 

"I  made  up  my  mind  then  and  there  to  stop 
and  I  felt  quite  capable  of  it.  But  I  had  to  go 
on  and  square  myself,  for  I  owed  that  money 
to  Nick.  But  when  I  played  it  was  with  my 
head  only.  All  the  fever  had  gone  out  of  my 
veins.  I  loathed  it.  I  loathed  still  more  de 
ceiving  you. 

"I  won  and  won  and  won.  I  thought  I  was 
delivered.  I  was  almost  happy  again.  Some 
day  I  meant  to  tell  you — when  it  was  all  over. 

"Then  I  began  to  lose  horribly.    Thousands. 


THE  AVALANCHE  221 

It  ran  up  to  twenty  thousand.  I  did  not  betray 
myself,  and  the  girls  thought  I  had  money  of  my 
own  and  could  pay  my  losses  quite  easily.  They 
didn't  know  that  Nick  always  helped  me  out. 
He  was  never  the  least  bit  in  love  with  me — he 
couldn't  love  any  woman — but  he  said  I  played 
such  a  wonderful  game  and  was  such  a  sport, 
never  lost  my  head,  that  he  wouldn't  lose  me  for 
the  world — when  I  threatened  to  stop  and  never 
play  again. 

"But  all  the  time  he  wanted  the  ruby.  I 
found  that  out  when  he  told  me  he  must  have 
the  money  inside  of  a  week ;  he  'd  taken  it  out  of 
his  business,  and  it  really  belonged  to  his  part 
ners,  and  they'd  find  him  out  and  send  him  to 
prison 

"I  offered  him  my  jewels.  They  would  have 
brought  half  their  value  at  least.  I  could  have 
told  you  they  were  stolen — only  one  more  lie. 
It  was  then  he  said  he  must  have  the  ruby.  He 
had  known  about  it  ever  since  you  came  out 
here,  but  after  he  saw  it  on  me  that  night  at 
the  Gwynnes'  he  was  more  than  ever  deter 
mined  to  have  it. 

"I  laughed  at  him  at  first.    It  seemed  pre- 


222  THE  AVALANCHE 

posterous  that  he  could  demand  a  ruby  worth 
two  or  three  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  pay 
ment  for  a  debt  of  twenty  thousand.  I  thought 
of  selling  my  jewels  and  furs  and  laces,  or 
pawning  them  and  raising  the  amount — he  only 
had  my  I.  0.  U.  for  that  sum.  But  I  didn  't  know 
where  to  go.  So  I  told  Aileen.  She  wouldn't 
hear  of  my  disposing  of  my  things,  said  it  would 
be  all  over  town  in  twenty-four  hours.  She 
advised  me  to  get  the  twenty  thousand  out  of 
you  on  one  pretext  or  another. 

"I  tried.  You  will  remember.  Then  Nick 
began  to  haunt  me.  He  whispered  in  my  ear 
wherever  we  met.  I  was  nearly  frantic.  He 
said  he  could  hold  me  up  to  shame  without  com 
promising  himself.  I  had  written  him  some 
frantic  letters,  and  he  said  they  read  just  like — 
like — the  other  thing. 

"I  felt  perfectly  helpless.  I  knew  that  even 
if  I  did  manage  to  pawn  the  jewels,  you  would 
miss  them  from  the  safe  and  trace  them.  I 
ceased  to  feel  cool.  I  nearly  went  off  my  head. 
But  I  stopped  gambling.  I  felt  sure  by  this 
time  that  he  could  make  me  lose,  but  I  couldn't 
prove  it.  Aileen  told  me  I  must  give  him  the 


THE  AVALANCHE  223 

ruby.  He  promised  me  before  Aileen  that  he 
would  give  me  back  my  I.  0.  U.  's  as  well  as  my 
notes  if  I  would  hand  over  the  ruby.  He  knew 
I  was  to  wear  it  to-night. 

"Finally  I  gave  in.  Yesterday  Nick  called 
me  up  on  the  telephone  and  told  me  to  come 
down  to  the  California  Market  to  lunch,  and  to 
bring  Aileen.  He  told  me  there  that  unless  I 
promised  to  give  him  the  ruby  to-night,  and 
kept  my  word,  he  'd  either  give  my  I.  0.  U.  's  and 
my  notes  to  you  or  to  the  Merry  Tattler-  He 
didn't  care  which.  I  could  have  my  choice. 

"I  said  I  would  do  it.  But  it  was  terribly 
conspicuous.  Everybody  would  notice  when  it 
was  gone.  He  said  I  must  conceal  it  anyhow 
until  we  unmasked  after  supper,  and  then  I 
could  pretend  I  had  lost  it.  He  discussed  sev 
eral  plans  for  having  me  slip  it  to  him,  but  it 
was  Aileen  who  insisted  we  should  come  here. 
Mrs.  Thornton  never  opens  her  boudoir  at  a 
party.  Everywhere  else  would  be  a  blaze  of 
light.  In  this  dark  corner  we  should  be  safe, 
especially  if  he  came  from  the  outside  and  I 
from  inside.  How  did  your  detective  find  out! 


5  > 


224  THE  AVALANCHE 

"I  think  Aileen  did  a  decent  thing  for  once 
in  her  life." 

She  went  on  in  her  monotonous  voice.  "I 
felt  reckless  after  that  and  I  really  was  gay  and 
almost  happy  at  dinner  last  night.  The  die  was 
cast.  I  didn't  much  care  for  anything.  I 
thought  perhaps  it  was  my  last  night  with  you 
— that  when  I  told  you  I  had  lost  the  ruby  you 
would  suspect  and  turn  me  out  of  your  house, 
tell  maman  to  take  me  back  to  Rouen. 

"Then  came  that  awful  moment  when  you 
said  you  had  to  go  away  and  I  could  not  wear 
it.  For  a  few  moments  I  thought  I  should 
scream  and  tell  you  everything.  But  I  was  both 
too  proud  and  too  much  of  a  coward.  Then  I 
knew  I  should  have  to  rob  the  safe,  and  some 
how  I  hated  that  part  more  than  anything  else. 
I  did  it  just  ten  minutes  before  Rex  and  Polly 
called  for  me  to  motor  down  here.  It  had 
seemed  the  most  horrible  thing  in  the  world  to 
be  a  gambler,  but  it  was  worse  to  be  a  thief. 

1 1 1  remembered  the  combination  perfectly.  I 
have  that  sort  of  memory:  it  registers  photo 
graphically.  I  had  seen  you  move  the  com 
bination  several  times.  Perhaps  I  deliberately 


THE  AVALANCHE  225 

registered  it.  I  can 't  say.  I  have  lived  in  such 
a  maze  of  intrigue  lately.  I  can't  say.  That  is 
all — except  that  I  didn't  get  the  letters  and  the 
other  things." 

'  *  He  had  an  envelope  in  one  hand.    Spaulding 
has  it  beyond  a  doubt." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

fin  HERE  was  silence  for  a,  moment  and  then 
A  Price  said  awkwardly :  ' '  It  is  a  pity  you 
haven't  the  chain  or  you  could  wear  the  ruby 
for  the  rest  of  the  evening." 

She  turned  her  eyes  from  the  window  and 
stared  at  him.  "I  have  the  chain — "  She 
raised  her  hand  to  the  tip  of  her  bodice — "but 
— but — you  can't  mean — it  isn't  possible  that 
you  can  forgive  me." 

"I  think  I  have  taken  very  bad  care  of  you. 
What  are  you,  after  all,  but  a  brilliant  child? 
I  am  thirty-three " 

He  suddenly  tore  off  his  domino  with  a  feel 
ing  of  rage,  and  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
friendly  pockets.  He  had  never  made  many 
verbal  protestations  to  her,  although  the  most 
exacting  wife  could  have  found  no  fault  with 
his  love-making.  But  to-night  he  felt  dumb; 
he  was  mortally  afraid  of  appearing  high  and 
noble  and  magnanimous. 

226 


THE  AVALANCHE  227 

"You  see,  things  always  happen  during  the 
first  years  of  married  life.  Perhaps  more  hap 
pens — I  mean  in  a  pettier  way — when  the  man 
has  leisure  and  can  see  too  much  of  his  wife. 
In  my  case — our  case — it  was  the  other  way — 
and  something  almost  tragic  happened.  So  I 
vote  we  treat  it  casually,  as  something  that 
must  have  been  expected  sooner  or  later  to  dis 
turb  our — our — even  tenor — and  forget  it." 

" Forget  it t" 

"Well,  yes.    I  can  if  yon  can." 

"And  can  you  forget  who  I  am?" 

"You  are  exactly  what  you  were  before  those 
scoundrels  recognized  your  mother,  and — and 
— set  me  going.  Of  course  I  had  to  find  out  the 
truth.  I  thought  you  knew  and  tried  to  make 
you  tell  me.  But  you  wouldn't — couldn't — and 
I  had  to  employ  Spaulding." 

"Do  you  mean  you  would  have  married  me  if 
you  had  known  the  truth  at  the  time?" 

"Rather." 

"And — but — I  told  you — I  became  a  regular 
gambler. ' ' 

He  could  not  help  smiling.  "I  have  no  fear 
of  your  gambling  again.  And  I  don't  fancy 


228  THE  AVALANCHE 

you  were  a  bit  worse  than  the  others  who  had 
no  gambling  blood  in  them — all  the  world  has 
that.  Gambling  is  about  the  earliest  of  the 
vices.  I — if — you  wouldn't  mind  promising — I 
know  you  will  keep  it." 

"Nothing  under  heaven  would  induce  me  to 
play  again.  But — but — I  opened  your  safe  like 
a  thief  and  stole " 

"Oh,  not  quite.  After  all  it  was  yours  as 
much  as  mine.  If  I  had  died  without  a  will  you 
would  have  got  it. 

"Of  course — I  know  what  you  mean — but 
men  have  always  driven  women  into  a  corner, 
and  they  have  had  to  get  out  by  methods  of 
their  own.  I  wish  now  I  had  given  you  the 
twenty  thousand.  I  prefer  you  should  accept 
my  decision  that  it  was  all  my  fault.  Give  me 
the  chain." 

She  drew  it  from  her  bosom  and  handed  it 
to  him.  He  fastened  the  ruby  in  its  place  and 
threw  the  chain  over  her  neck.  The  great  jewel 
lit  up  the  front  of  her  somber  gown  like  a  sud 
den  torch  in  a  cavern. 

The  stern  despair  of  Helene's  tragic  mask  re- 


THE  AVALANCHE  229 

laxed.  She  dropped  her  face  into  her  hands  and 
began  to  sob.  Then  Ruyler  was  himself  again. 
He  picked  her  up  in  his  arms  and  settled  com 
fortably  into  the  deepest  of  the  chairs. 


THE   END 


DATE  DUE 


GAYLORD 


